


Christina: Something to Believe In

by slaysvamps



Series: Christina Strong Chronicles [18]
Category: World of Darkness (Games)
Genre: F/M, Mage: The Ascension - Freeform, Vampire: The Masquerade - Freeform, Werewolf: the Apocalypse - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-20 22:55:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 41,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20235727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slaysvamps/pseuds/slaysvamps
Summary: Christina's memory returned with a vengeance leaving her confused and a bit out of her mind. Can she rebuild her life now that she knows everything she had forgotten?





	1. Frasier: A Ghoul’s Loyalty

**Author's Note:**

> While we have used the names of some celebrities and their likenesses this is not a Backstreet Boys RPF.
> 
> The first half of this story, Book 1: Chaos Reigns, is set in alternating POV between Frasier and Christina. The chapter title will state the POV.
> 
> The second half of this story, Book 2: Making Choices, is completely from Christina's POV.

### Book 1: Chaos Reigns

_I don’t wanna die for you but if dyin’s asked of me_  
_I’ll bear that cross with honor_  
_ Toby Keith – An American Soldier_

FRASIER O’CONNELL STOOD at the kitchen sink in the Prince of Detroit’s guest house. He’d been a guest of the prince for two months now, splitting his time between working security for the Tremere clan, trying to keep the Strong Security Agency going without its owner’s presence, and sitting with his unconscious mistress.

Two months, two long months Christina Strong had lain in torpor, and nothing anyone had done managed to bring her out of it. Frasier knew that the clan was beginning to lose hope she would wake any time soon. Many clan members had offered to take on Frasier, but thankfully the Prince had adamantly refused to consider transferring either of Christina’s ghouls to someone else. They had a stash of her blood she’d put aside, and they’d been using it to maintain their tie to her, but that wouldn’t last forever.

If only Frasier been able to do something when the Crone had appeared in the Tremere chantry and abducted Petor Andrews, the ghoul Christina had picked up on her disastrous trip to Russia. One minute Frasier had been sitting with Petor and their friend Rafe Brown, the next Rafe was lying dead on the ground and Petor and the Crone were gone.

When they’d finally caught up with the bastard, Christina had put a bullet in his heart. Not that it had done much good in the long run. A wave of… something, some kind of magic, had knocked them all off their feet and Christina hadn’t gotten back up. She’d been in torpor ever since.

Petor slept on a cot in Christina’s room, which Frasier would be doing if he’d thought of it first. In fact, Petor spent most of his time sitting at Christina’s side, watching her unconscious form. Most nights he had company in his vigil, with Brenda Thompson, Antonio Moreno, and even Scott Murphy taking their turns at Christina’s bedside.

Frasier watched the pink sky of sunset darken to black and thought about what his life had been like before Christina had killed the Crone. They had all just gotten used to living in the Tremere Country Chantry, used to the clan’s rules and the training, and there had only been a few weeks to go before their mandated time with the Tremere was over.

If things had gone well, they’d have been back with the Gangrel by now, Christina living with Scott, Petor spending most of his time with Maggie Pillion, and Frasier, well, he’d have had a lot more time to spend with Nancy Martin, the Toreador he’d taken a liking to. That was over now, of course. No time for society dates or late-night wine with a beautiful woman. No time even to find out how his friend Rafe had made the transition from ghoul to vampire.

A noise from the hall told him that Brenda was awake and moving about the house. She’d check on Christina first thing, she always did, with Rafe like a shadow at her side. Then she’d shower and get ready for the night, sometimes sitting with Christina, sometimes going into the chantry to do whatever it was the clan required of her.

Frasier’s silent recitation of the coming nights events were interrupted when Trent, one of the ghouls Cassidy had sent to keep an eye on the house, came into the kitchen.

“You need to come in here,” Trent said in a grave voice.

Heart pounding, Frasier followed him back into the hall where Trent and Rafe stood to one side of the door to Christina’s room. Frasier could hear voices inside and approached, suddenly reluctant to see what was inside.

“I didn’t mean it,” he heard a woman’s voice mutter, Christina’s voice. “I take it back.”

The look on Trent’s face told Frasier that he shouldn’t feel relieved Christina was awake just yet. He stepped to the doorway and swayed when he saw what was inside.

“Have to fix it,” Christina said desperately, her hand clutching at Petor’s bloody neck.

“Honey, there’s nothing to fix,” Brenda soothed, trying to pry her hands away from the body.

The body. Petor’s body. Petor was dead, lying in Christina’s lap. There was blood on his neck, his chest, his hair, and blood on Christina too. Her face was covered in the red substance, long streaks of it running down her neck, coating her nightgown, her hair, and her hands.

It was clear to Frasier, however, that Christina didn’t see any of the blood. He doubted she even realized she was holding Petor’s body in her lap.

“Have to fix Jas,” she muttered, crying. “He came back.”

“This isn’t Jason, honey,” Brenda said softly, still trying to pull her hands away.

“No, it is,” Christina insisted, sounding more than a little agitated at the idea that she’d killed her ex-husband. “He came back! Why’d he come back?”

Brenda took Christina’s bloody face in her hands, forcing their eyes to meet. “Christina, this is not Jason Kline.”

Christina’s eyes seemed to clear for a moment, at least until she looked down. When she saw Petor’s dead eyes, saw the blood covering them both, she lost any coherency she might have had. “No, no, no!”

Frasier forced himself to move, to step forward and take the body of his friend from Christina’s lap. Brenda held the crying woman in her arms as Rafe came up to help Frasier carry the body out into the living room, where Trent had already laid a thick blanket down on the carpet.

“Haven’t seen one this bloody in a while,” Trent said as they covered the body. “I guess it’s to be expected, her brains scrambled like that.”

“I think you’d freak out too, if you woke up to realize you’d just killed one of your best friends,” Frasier said coldly, rising from his crouch to glare at the other man. “Why don’t you call your boss and tell him what happened.”

Fighting anger, Frasier turned away and walked toward the back of the house. Brenda had Christina in the bathroom now, helping her into the shower to wash away the blood. Trying not to dwell on his friend’s death, Frasier went to the dresser in his mistress’ room and gathered clothing, leaving it on the sink in the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later he stood at the foot of the bed in his room and watched while Brenda led Christina toward the bed. There was too much blood in Christina’s room to think about putting her back in it. Just as Brenda was about to settle her down on the mattress, Christina stopped and touched the blanket.

“There was blood on the bed,” she mumbled softly, “a broken mirror and blood on the bed.”

“No, there’s no blood on the bed see?” Brenda said soothingly, running her hand over the bedspread. “Come and lie down, Chris. Everything will be alright.”

“No, there was,” Christina insisted, letting Brenda guide her into bed. “There was blood on the bed, and I had claws, and Cormac....” Her words trailed off as she looked at the mirror over the dresser. “There was a crack in the mirror.”

“You’re remembering something else, dear,” Brenda told her, “not tonight.”

“And Jason,” Christina said sadly. “I killed him.”

Brenda looked at her for a long moment. “Jason isn’t dead, Christina.”

Christina lay back on the pillow and closed her eyes. “Malcolm is.”

Frasier could see the effort it took for Brenda to keep her voice calm. “Yes,” she answered at last. “Yes, he is.”

There was no reply. Either Christina was sleeping, or she’d fallen back into that damned torpor. Frasier watched her lying still on the bed and felt useless for all the help he’d been to her tonight. He stood and watched over her, mourning the death of his friend.

Brenda left only long enough to take a phone call before returning to sit next to the woman she called sister. She sat in a chair that Rafe had brought in, watching Christina sleep without saying a word.

Nearly an hour later, Frasier heard Madelynne Walker’s voice coming from the living room. Madelynne was the Gangrel Primogen of Detroit, and the leader of the pack Christina had been staying with. Rafe slipped out to try and intervene, but Brenda came to her feet.

“Sounds like the pack is here,” she said to Frasier. “I’m going to try to hold them off until we have a better idea of her mind frame. I’m sure that Chr—” She stumbled over the name, mindful that months ago Christina had insisted everyone call her something else. “—Tina doesn’t want a bunch of gawkers looking in on her, especially in this state.”

Frasier nodded, but deep down he knew that Christina would probably want to see the Gangrel pack, even though she seemed to have regained her memory. It wasn’t his call to make though, so he took advantage of Brenda’s absence to sit on the edge of the bed.

He wasn’t surprised when Trent came into the room before the door could shut behind Brenda. Though Frasier wasn’t afraid of his mistress, he knew it wouldn’t do for a second Tremere ghoul to lose his life tonight.

The sound of voices came drifting through the wall. Frasier ignored them for the most part, knowing he had no say in what happened next. He would have ignored them completely if Christina hadn’t stirred.

“Green eyes,” she said, turning her head to look up at him. “Mark of the beast.”

Christina had green eyes, but Frasier was pretty sure that wasn’t what she was talking about. A trait of the Gangrel clan was to gain a mark of the beast every time they lost control enough to frenzy. A few months ago, Scott had lost control and his eyes had turned a vivid green, like that of a dog.

“Christina,” Frasier asked softly, “are you talking about Scott?”

She grabbed his arm to pull herself up and he had to fight with the instinct to flinch away from her. Christina was his mistress; he had long ago given himself over to her. If she chose to drain his life the way she had drained Petor’s, well, it was his duty to let her.

Thankfully she didn’t try to bite him. Instead, she scooted down on the bed and flung her legs over the side to stand up.

“Are you feeling all right?” Frasier said, coming to his feet with her.

“Make the border,” she muttered, heading for the door.

Frasier and Trent exchanged a look, but neither of them was willing to stand in her way. She had barely opened the door when Brenda was there, her hand out as if she’d been reaching for the knob.

Christina took one step out of the room and looked toward the front door, then to Antonio, who must have arrived while the Gangrel Pack had been there.

“Teeth,” Christina murmured with a frown, still looking at Antonio. “Blood and a long black car.” She turned back to Brenda. “Michael?”

Brenda slowly put her hand on Christina’s arm. “Michael isn’t here, Christina. But look, Antonio is.”

Antonio moved closer, speaking softly as if concerned he might frighten her. “Hello, _novia_. How are you feeling?”

“The Spaniard,” she replied, her voice barely more than a whisper. “No, not—Antonio. Made my b-bed,” she added brokenly. “Bad, bad childe.”

It sounded like she was crying, but Frasier couldn’t see her face to be sure.

“I think she’s remembering when we flipped to that alternate dimension,” Brenda said quietly in answer to Antonio’s questioning look.

Antonio reached for Christina, pulling her toward him and holding her against his chest. She clung to him like a child, sobbing.

“Hush now,” he crooned. “You are not there anymore, little one. There is no reason to think you are bad.”

“Am too,” she sobbed. “Didn’t b-believe. B-bad w-wife, b-bad childe.”

He ran a hand up and down her back soothingly. “It’s alright.”

Frasier saw Brenda look him and Trent over as if checking for bite marks. He could have told her that they were both fine, though a bit shaken. After a moment, she told Rafe to bring some blood packs for Christina before looking at Frasier again.

“She heard voices,” he said in a low voice, answering her unasked question. “I wasn’t sure if we should try and stop her from coming out here. She seemed calm enough.”

“What did she say when she woke?” she asked as Antonio led Christina into the living room.

“Something about green eyes and the mark of the beast,” Frasier told her. “I think she heard—” he glanced at Christina and Antonio who were now on the couch and lowered his voice. “—Scott’s voice. Do you-do you think she was talking about his eyes?”

“I’m not sure but it seems likely,” she agreed. “We were just outside the door. How did she awaken? Was is sudden or slow?”

“She just opened her eyes and laid there a minute, listening,” he explained. “Then she sat up and walked toward the door. Is she gonna be alright?”

“I’m sure she’s just on overload,” she assured him. “We’ll just have to go slow with her. Everything will be fine.”

Rafe returned with the blood packs and handed them to Brenda, who carried them over to the couch where she dropped to her knees in front of Christina. Frasier trailed her, not trying to get in her way, but unwilling to stay too far from his mistress in case she needed him.

“Christina?” Brenda asked softly. “Are you hungry?”

Christina pulled back from Antonio and turned tear stained eyes toward her sister. It seemed to take a moment for her to understand Brenda’s request, and when she did her eyes closed in pain. Another moment passed before she opened them again and reached for one of the blood packs Brenda was holding.

“Didn’t mean to,” she muttered as she pulled at one corner of the package in an effort to open it. “C-couldn’t stop.”

Brenda covered Christina’s shaking hands with her own. “It’s okay. Here, let me do that.”

Antonio took out a handkerchief and wiped the tears from Christina’s face as Brenda opened the blood pack. Taking it back, Christina drank it quickly, then held it, looking down at the empty bit of plastic.

“Killed him,” she said softly, then suddenly looked up and grabbed one of Brenda’s hands. “But I didn’t kill your father,” she said urgently. “The wall blew up, and Superman was there, and—” She stopped abruptly, her face losing all animation as she looked down. “Didn’t kill your father.”

“Or course you didn’t, honey,” Brenda assured her. “Do you want more?”

She nodded, but then leaned close to Brenda’s ear. “They’re afraid of me,” she said almost so low Frasier couldn’t hear her.

“Who is afraid of you?” Antonio asked gently.

Christina glanced at Frasier and Trent before reaching without a word to take the second blood pack Brenda had opened.

“Frasier is just worried about you,” Brenda soothed.

At Brenda’s gesture, Frasier walked closer, pausing only when Christina began to look panicked. Her hand tightened on the blood bag, squeezing it until blood leaked out over her hand and onto her lap. She didn’t seem to notice. Brenda quickly took the blood pack back while Rafe went to the kitchen for a towel.

“There is no reason to be frightened,” Antonio said in a soothing voice. “It is Frasier. Do you know him?”

Lifting her blood covered hand to her mouth she licked at the liquid while giving Antonio a look that might have said he was the one with memory problems. “He came from th-the fire....” Her words trailed off and she stared into the distance beyond Antonio for a long moment before continuing. “No, from Inferno.” To Brenda she added almost conversationally, “He was a monk, you know, and doesn’t like sneaky girls at all and sometimes he tastes....” She broke off again, as if embarrassed.

Frasier moved forward and knelt beside Brenda. “Christina?”

“Not stupid,” she said softly, reaching out to cup his face with her blood covered hand. She stopped just short, but he leaned into her touch, letting her hand cup his face despite the blood that was cool and sticky on his skin. “So warm....” She jumped and pulled away quickly. “Won’t steal your heat,” she gasped, sounding frightened and looking at Brenda in alarm. “I won’t steal it, Brenda!”

“Of course, you won’t sweetie,” she soothed. “We know that.” She took a towel from Rafe and began to dab at the blood on Christina’s pants.

“Do you remember what you were doing in Inferno?” Antonio asked softly.

“There was a puppy dog convention,” she told him simply. “Frasier was shooting, and all the girls were looking at his legs.” She looked at Brenda and added softly, “He has nice legs.”

“You were at a University, yes?” Antonio prompted.

She nodded as if pleased that he knew what she was talking about. “And Nina, and Cormac, Stephen and—” She stopped abruptly and closed her eyes as if something from the memory had stabbed her. “Lena,” she said after a moment. In Russian she added, “She’ll never forgive me for leaving him.”

“She will forgive you,” Frasier told her in the same language. He was the only other person in the room who spoke it. “We’ll fix things.”

Antonio gave Frasier a pointed look as if he expected to be told what Christina had said. Obediently, Frasier began to speak.

“She said that Lena wouldn’t forgive her for leaving—”

Christina’s fingers felt warm on his mouth as she cut off his words. He tried not to remember that her warmth came from draining Petor’s lifeblood. “Loose lips, O’Connell,” she warned him.

“What else do you remember?” Antonio asked after a moment.

Her hand fell from Frasier’s mouth and she looked off into the distance again, almost as if searching for something. Very softly she said, “Steel points, sharp, they go straight to the heart like a touch on the waist.”

No one seemed to have any idea what she was talking about, least of all Frasier.

“We should have tried for Kentucky,” she added softly before her eyes focused on the blood pack that Brenda was still holding. “You gonna drink that?”

Brenda handed the pack to her and she quickly drained it.

“How many days left?” Christina asked.

“Days for what?” Antonio queried.

“The agreement,” she explained patiently, “with the countess. How many days are left?”

Antonio glanced at Brenda then reached out to tuck a lock of Christina’s hair away from her face. “The agreement is officially over, _novia_,” he told her.

She frowned. “But there were weeks left! How long was I sleeping?” She looked around in confusion and her eyes fell on Rafe.

Frasier knew that Rafe had been human the last time Christina had seen him, but he wasn’t human now. Chaos had killed Rafe when he’d captured Petor, and the rituals Brenda had performed on her husband had ensured that when he’d died, Rafe rose as a vampire.

Brenda reached for Christina’s hand, drawing her attention. “It’s been two months, Christina.”

She stared at Brenda in shock. “Two months?”

Brenda nodded.

“I believe you slept so long because Malcolm returned your memories to you,” Antonio added. “What do you remember, childe?”

For a long time, Christina sat there silently, looking at a point over Antonio’s shoulder. At last she said softly, “I killed him.”

“Yes, you did,” Antonio agreed. “But it was something that could not be helped. You were not in control.”

Frasier was pretty sure Christina hadn’t been talking about Petor, but he said nothing.

“I was stupid,” Christina told them. “There were horsemen, and Salubri, and I trusted him.” She looked up at her sire. “I shouldn’t have trusted him.”

Antonio and Brenda exchanged a glance. “What else do you remember about them?” Antonio asked.

“I went to help Malcolm, to save him,” she said slowly. “I went to save him, and I killed... so many... Lightsbane. Arcady. I left him there with an empty head. I didn’t want to, but I had to, we would have died. I did everything I could to save him and he just left me here, as empty as Arcady.” She shook her head. “Should have left him to die.”

Brenda patted the hand she was holding. “Malcolm can’t hurt you anymore, honey. It’s all over.”

“It’s not over,” Christina insisted, starting to cry once more. “P-Petor’s d-dead, Frasier’s afraid of me, and J—” She pulled her hand from Brenda’s and put her hands on either side of her head, closing her eyes. “M-my head is so f-full, there’s n-no room!”

Antonio pulled her closer to his side with an arm around her shoulders. “It is a great deal to take in at once, my dear and it will be okay. We are all here with you and no one is afraid.” He gestured that Frasier should move closer.

Frasier shuffled closer to his mistress and put his hand on her knee. “I’m not afraid of you, Christina.”

She looked at Frasier for a long moment, then reached up and touched one of the buttons on his shirt. “You learned how to use buttons.”

He smiled gently, remembering how confusing this world had been when he’d first come here with her, how patient she’d been in showing him how to use the unfamiliar fastenings.

“Buttons, buttons, so many buttons,” Christina mumbled softly, touching several buttons on Frasier’s shirt but not really paying much attention to them. “Buttons and bows, borrowed and blue, with a penny in your shoe.”

“Christina?” Brenda prodded quietly.

She looked up at Brenda. “You didn’t wear shoes. No place for pennies.”

Brenda seemed confused. “When didn’t I wear shoes, Christina?”

“On the beach,” she said patiently, glancing behind Brenda where Rafe stood watching. “Not so many buttons, either.”

“Yeah,” Brenda replied, smiling. “We weren’t too into formalities, were we?”

Christina let her hand fall on top of Frasier’s where it still sat on her knee. She carefully turned it over and looked at the pulse on his wrist. “Still hungry.”

To Frasier’s relief, Rafe went back to the kitchen area for another blood pack. He gave it to Brenda, who opened it and handed it to Christina. She drained it just as quickly as she had the others.

Not long afterward, they tucked Christina back into her bed. They stayed in her room for a little while, Frasier and Antonio, Brenda and Rafe, watching as she lay unmoving on the bed. After a while the vampires went off to prepare for dawn, leaving Frasier sitting in a chair, watching his mistress sleep.

He hoped that she’d be more coherent tomorrow night, but he didn’t plan on holding his breath. Lord Chaos had fucked every life he’d touched, and he’d done much more than touch Christina. He’d ripped out her heart.


	2. Frasier: Making Progress

_Hope dangles on a string_   
_Like slow spinning redemption_   
_ Dashboard Confessional – Vindicated_

FRASIER WAS RIGHT about Christina’s state when she woke the following night. It was clear that his mistress had her memories back, but those memories were not in any kind of rational order. Her mind moved from one to another at the speed of light, making it difficult to keep up with what she was talking about. She was ranting about a cloak and sunrise when Brenda came into the room not long after sundown.

“Is everything okay?” Brenda asked as she walked over to the bed.

“She’s still a bit... loopy,” Frasier told her. He had pulled the chair close to the bed and was holding his mistress’ hand.

“There was lightning,” Christina said to the ceiling.

Brenda frowned, obviously disappointed in Christina’s mental state. “Lightning where?”

“At the monastery,” Christina replied, looking at her sister. “Chaos.”

“Really?” Brenda asked, sitting on the bed opposite Frasier. “I wasn’t there.”

“Lightning from his fingertips,” she replied.

Brenda looked at Frasier who nodded. He’d heard the story of Chaos and the Monastery where Jason had been taken captive. Apparently, Brenda hadn’t heard it.

“I see,” Brenda said slowly. “Mages are like that though.”

“Where’s the center?” Christina asked. “Can’t find it.”

“What center are you talking, honey?” Brenda asked.

“Too many windows, too many memories,” she replied. “Can’t find the center. Where’s Petor?”

Frasier closed his eyes, unwilling to be the one to tell her what had happened the night before. Christina had been a bit overprotective with her second ghoul, and he knew she wouldn’t be happy to realize she’d killed him.

“Why don’t you get dressed and maybe we can go for a short walk?” Brenda suggested. “How does that sound?”

“Is it safe? Are there werewolves?” Christina asked. “Or ninja Toreador?”

Brenda took her hand. “You’ll be safe. We won’t be out long.”

“Is Antonio here?” Christina sat up, letting go of Frasier’s hand and throwing her legs over the side of the bed. “We have to protect him. We never found Van Able’s partners, did we?”

“Yes, he’s here. I think he was just getting up when I came in here,” Brenda assured her. “Who’s Van Able?”

At that moment, Antonio entered the room. He wasn’t wearing a jacket, which was more casual than Frasier had ever seen him and was still in the process of buttoning his vest as if he’d been in a hurry to check on Christina.

“Good evening, ladies,” he said to them, then nodded to Frasier and added in an even tone, “Mr. O’Connell.”

“Antonio,” Christina asked, tilting her head a bit to one side. “Why were there two Graves?”

He seemed to think for a moment before replying. “The second was a cover, child.”

She nodded as if that was the best bit of wisdom she’d heard tonight. “Luke almost died in a cemetery. I had to give him blood.”

Antonio nodded as well. “Was that the first time you gave it to him?”

“He was hurt, I had to.” She looked off into the distance, remembering. “He bit me, the first time we—” She broke off to glance at Frasier before continuing. “—a few months later. I didn’t want him to, but he said it didn’t change anything. Shouldn’t it have?”

“One would think it should have,” Antonio said slowly. “Did it?”

“I didn’t notice a difference, not even after he d-bit me again,” she replied. “It was quite nice, really. Brenda wants to go for a walk.”

Antonio looked to Brenda. “Are you sure that is a good idea?”

“We’ll be fine,” she assured him. “I thought it would be nice to just get out for a little while.”

Christina stood up. “Brenda said there weren’t any werewolves, or ninja Toreador, but she won’t tell me what they did with Petor. Do you think we could find the center?”

“Let’s not worry about all that for now, okay?” Brenda said, a painful smile on her face. “Now is the time for relaxing.”

“Make sure that Rafe and Frasier go with you,” Antonio warned her.

She nodded. “Just let me go change.”

“But how am I supposed to balance if I can’t find the center?” Christina asked anxiously.

Frasier stood up and started gathering some clothing for Christina to wear, hoping to distract her. “Why don’t we talk about it after our walk?”

“Okay, but if I fall over, you’re going to have to carry me back,” she warned him. “Where are my weapons?”

In the confused state she was in, the last thing Frasier wanted to do was put a gun in her hand. He looked at Brenda, hoping she’d have some idea of how to tell Christina ‘no.’

“Christina, you will have no need for weapons,” Brenda assured her gently. “We we’re on the Prince’s estate. We won’t be leaving it.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “Just let me get dressed and find my Glock.”

They left her alone to change. After a few minutes, they could hear her moving around the room as if looking for something. The more time that passed, the more frantic the sounds became. Frasier was about to go back into the room when Christina opened the door looking both angry and scared.

“O’Connell,” she demanded, “where are my weapons?!”

Brenda put herself between them. “Christina, you don’t need your weapons. I told you we’re on the Prince’s estate. There’s no need.” When Christina didn’t respond, she added, “Don’t you believe me?”

“But what if we get attacked?” she asked, sounding more than a little lost.

“That is not going to happen, my dear,” Antonio soothed.

Brenda put on a jacket. “You ready then?”

Christina stood there for a long moment, looking like she was fighting not to panic. They waited patiently to see what she would do. Eventually it looked as if something occurred to her and she flexed her fingers and nodded to herself. Frasier was willing to bet she’d remembered that she could change her fingernails to inch long razor-sharp claws.

“Maybe a short walk,” she agreed at last.

Christina stuck close to Frasier’s side as they walked outside, followed closely by Brenda and Rafe. The grounds would have been beautiful in the summer, but now the trees were bare, the ground partially covered with snow from the last storm.

Frasier could tell that Christina wasn’t comfortable without her weapons at hand, but then he’d never known her to be without at least one gun tucked into the back of her pants. She kept up a steady stream of conversation, and sometimes it took him a few minutes to figure out what she was talking about. Most of it was too confusing to make sense of, as if she was trying to put all her memories into perspective at once.

They’d been walking for several minutes when she said, “What happened to Brendan?”

Shock showed on Brenda’s face. “What do you mean?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Did he get Malcolm’s magic?” Christina replied. “Was he very much pissed that I killed Malcolm?”

“I don’t know,” Brenda said slowly. “We haven’t talked to him.”

She nodded. “Places to go, people to kill.”

Rafe spoke up for the first time, and his voice had a hard edge to it. “What do you mean by that?”

“Lightning,” Christina told him patiently, “from his fingertips.”

Frasier was happy to see Brenda laid a hand on Rafe’s arm to keep him calm. He knew talking about his nephew had upset Rafe, and that he blamed Christina both for Brendan’s disappearance and Rafe’s embrace.

“Yes, there was lightning,” Brenda told Christina.

“A kiss on the head and everything’s gone,” she mumbled. “Gotta find the center.”

“You will,” Brenda replied softly. “Just let it happen.”

Christina continued talking as they walked through the grounds, skipping from one topic to the next until Frasier’s head was spinning. He couldn’t imagine how she was even up and walking around, given the sheer confusion of what she was saying.

They’d made a wide circuit of the grounds and were approaching the guest house once again when Frasier noticed a car parked near the front door. He wasn’t the only one who realized that it was Madelynne’s car.

“Rafe, Christina, Frasier,” Brenda said cautiously, “why don’t you guys go over that way for a minute? I need to check on something at the house.”

Frasier was more than willing to agree, but when he tried to lead Christina away, she stopped and looked at her sister.

“I’ve had my freak out,” she said in a surprisingly calm voice. “I can’t find the center, but I can focus.”

Brenda smiled at her reassuringly. “I know and that’s good. Just give me a moment okay?”

For the first time since she woke, Christina seemed completely sane. “I can’t hide from them forever.”

“Never wanted you to,” Brenda said, reaching out to take her hand. “I just wanted a minute to prepare them. They deserve that.”

Christina nodded. “There’s no rain tonight, no dart board. I know where I’m supposed to be, Brenda, even if I can’t get there just yet.”

Letting go of Brenda’s hand, Christina turned and took Frasier’s arm, letting him lead her toward one of the flower beds some distance from the house, Rafe trailing behind.


	3. Christina: Facing the Past

_Nothing can bring me peace_   
_I’ve lost everything_   
_ Kate Havnevik - Grace_

MOST OF WHAT I remember from the first few nights after I woke with my memories is fragmented at best. I remember holding Petor’s body, the burning hunger, the overwhelming confusion. I also remember that no matter how crazy I felt, I had people with me, helping me, watching me, making sure I was safe both to myself, and to everyone else.

The first clear memory I have is of being in the garden with Frasier and Rafe, crouching on the ground with my fingers in the dirt. I know I was telling them something about a Gangrel ability when Brenda approached us.

“Christina?” she said gently, “Honey, what are you doing?”

“She was telling us about Earth Meld,” Rafe told her with a reassuring smile.

“And Madelynne can turn into a cat,” I added with a smile of my own as I stood up and brushed off my hands. “I was trying to learn it, but there wasn’t really enough time.” I looked off into the trees and remembered agreeing to leave the pack to live in the Tremere chantry. “Time,” I murmured. “Time to stop fighting, time to be Tremere. Time.”

Brenda held out her hand toward me. “Your friends are waiting to see you, Chris.”

The pack was there, waiting to see how I’d made it through the return of my memories. I was waiting for that too, but with the mess my mind was in, it wasn’t looking good. “They won’t—” I didn’t think they’d appreciate the fact that I remembered my family now, my husband, and knew just how badly I’d screwed my life up since I’d come to Detroit. “I’m not ‘Tina’ anymore.”

“Yes, you are,” she said in a low voice. “Now you’re not just Tina though. It will be okay. I’ll stay with you if you want, okay?”

I took her hand and looked at her pleadingly, fighting to stay calm. “I can’t find the center, Brenda. What if I can’t ever find it?”

“You’ll find it.” Brenda’s voice sounded so certain, as if it were inevitable. “Just let it happen. Don’t force it. It’s okay. Really,” she added, her voice sounding more strained at the end.

“No, it’s not,” I told her as a tear fell down my cheek. “It’s not okay, it’ll never be okay, and I can’t—I can’t find the center, Brenda.”

She reached out and took both of my hands. “Christina, do you trust me?”

“Yes,” I said, without hesitation.

She leaned toward me. “Everything will be okay. You will find the center and we’ll take it one day, one minute at a time.”

I nodded thoughtfully, wiping the tear from my cheek and licking it from my fingers. “I’m still sorry.”

She nodded too, but something in her face told me she was upset. “I am, too.”

I took a deep breath and looked toward the house. “Into the breach, then. But let’s not let slip the dogs, okay?”

Her hands tightened on mine for a moment before she let one go and led me toward the house, the boys following not far behind.

Once inside I saw that Madelynne, Logan Masters, Scott and Maggie were in the living room. Scott was the only one of them standing when we came in, but the rest of them quickly came to their feet. Antonio stood as well. Scott looked upset and took a step toward me. I did my best to smile, but it felt strange on my face.

“Tina?” he said softly.

I tried not to wince. I’d spent months, nearly a year insisting on being called by that name, but now I hated the very sound of it. “I’m okay,” I told him, trying to convince myself of that just as much as Scott and the rest of them.

Brenda stayed close, holding my hand in a supportive gesture I certainly appreciated. What I didn’t appreciate was Rafe and Frasier hovering as if they expected me to kill someone. Someone else, I thought, remembering Petor with regret.

I looked at Scott across the room, just looked at him for a long moment, remembering the long nights we’d shared, the life we’d been building together. He was taller than Jason, somehow both leaner and stronger at the same time. His hair was darker than Jason’s natural shade, and his eyes, his eyes were the yellow green of a dog’s eyes. He looked nothing like Jason, felt nothing like him in my heart, yet he was in my heart. Scott was in my heart, still there even after I remembered loving Jason.

“It’s the mark of the beast,” I whispered, squeezing Brenda’s hand before letting go to take a step toward Scott. “Such beautiful eyes,” I murmured.

Then Scott’s arms were strong around me, strong enough to keep away anything that might hurt me, but not strong enough to drive away the memories of Jason burning through my mind. I put my arms around him and let him hold me for a long moment, wishing more than anything that I’d never remembered my husband, never remembered the life I’d had before I’d met Scott.

Eventually I pulled back and cupped the side of his face, looking up into his beautiful green eyes. “Steel points to the heart,” I said sadly. “We never made it to Kentucky.”

“No,” he replied in a low voice. “Maybe we should have tried.”

“Maybe.” Somehow I knew that even if we had fled halfway across the globe, Malcolm would have found me, would have forced me to kill him, would have shoved these unwanted memories back in my head and I would still be standing here, longing for Jason.

I stepped away from him, away from the painful memory of my infidelity to Jason and reached blindly for Brenda’s hand. Maybe if I held onto her, I could stop myself from begging Scott to try running for the Kentucky border now.

“Brenda told you about the center?” I stopped and shook my head, knowing I’d said it wrong. “About what happened when I woke up?”

Madelynne stepped forward. “She said you got your memory back.”

The smile felt bitter on my lips. “It’s a bit overwhelming.”

“Perhaps we should sit,” Antonio suggested.

At his prompting, everyone slowly began to sit down. I’d forgotten how commanding Antonio could be, but now I clearly remembered how he took over any room he was in. I went with Brenda to Antonio’s side and sat down between them on the couch, still clutching her hand.

“Rafe, it would be nice for some refreshment, I think,” Antonio suggested. “Could you see to that?”

I could feel Madelynne and Scott watching as I sat down between Brenda and Antonio, but I needed their strength more than I hated seeing the disappointment in Madelynne eyes. She almost looked as if she’d expected me to choose my Kindred family over the family I’d found in Detroit.

Scott’s face, on the other hand, was unreadable, and it made me feel both nervous and sad.

“You do remember everything then?” Logan asked gently.

“Yes,” I told him. Logan had been important to me, when my memory had been lost, a surrogate father figure who had done his best to help me. “I think so,” I added uncertainly, “I mean, maybe.” I put a hand to my temple, trying to make sense of the confusing jumble of memories running through my head, all vying for my attention. “I don’t really remember when I was human, I don’t think. It could be there, around the corner. Or maybe in the center.” I looked at Brenda and asked, “Could it be in the center, do you think?” Suddenly realizing how crazy that sounded, I looked down.

Brenda smiled and patted my hand as if I hadn’t said anything unusual. “Maybe. We’ll have to see what happens when you get there.”

“My dear, your friends wanted to be certain that you were alright,” Antonio said in a gentle voice. “They have been very worried about you, just as we have.”

“I’ll be okay,” I said, trying to sound as if I really believed it. “Do you know what happened to Petor?” I asked Madelynne.

She glanced warily at Brenda. “You don’t remember?”

“After,” I said, trying not to get irritated with the way no one seemed to understand what I was asking. “No one will tell me what happened after.”

“After what, child?” Antonio asked softly.

“There was blood in my mouth.” I could hear my voice rising but I couldn’t seem to stop it. “And he was dead and I just wanna know what happened to him.”

“His body,” Logan said softly. “You wanna know what happened to his body.”

Brenda looked confused, and Antonio opened his mouth to speak then closed it again without saying anything.

“He’s been cremated,” Rafe said as he began pouring blood from a tall pitcher into a crystal glass. “The Countess’ people took care of it.”

I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. I hadn’t really gotten a chance to say goodbye to Petor, but then again, I wasn’t sure I deserved that chance, since I’d been the one to kill him. There had been so much death in my life. My mother. My brother. Marcus and Lizzy and so many others over the years. People I’d killed, people I’d loved.

“Fingers and blood,” I murmured.

“What?” I heard Maggie ask.

I looked up, but all I could see was the room above Walker’s Pub, the table Cormac had stood behind using a mortar and pestle to grind up the ingredients needed for the spell to return my memory. “Fingers and blood and Cormac,” I murmured, reaching up to touch the spot on my forehead where he’d drawn a rune in blood. “Dead, he’s dead too, isn’t he?”

From the expression on her face, I’d surprised Brenda with that question, but after a moment she nodded. “He is.”

“There was blood and magic,” I said softly, “and everyone was so angry!” I shook my head and looked at Scott. An image shot through my mind of his arms around me while I held a dart in my hand. “And sharp points straight to the heart.”

From the look in his eye, he was remembering that night as well. For a moment the air was a thick between us as we both thought about the hours we’d spent in Scott’s bed that night, learning each others’ bodies.

Remembering the many times that I’d cheated on my husband was enough to make me close my eyes in pain. I’d driven him away just as surely as I’d killed Malcolm. Why hadn’t I believed Jason when he’d come to Detroit looking for me? Why hadn’t I listened to my heart when it told me that I loved him? Why had I thought that Scott would keep me safe from the man I had loved more than the endless nights that now stretched empty before me?

Antonio’s arm went around my shoulders. “Are you alright, childe?”

“No,” I murmured, putting a hand to my temple in an effort to stem the tide of memories. “It’s so full in here, I can’t find the center. I don’t know who I am, sire,” I whispered. “I don’t know who I’m supposed to be any more.”

Antonio set down his glass pulled me into his arms. “Why, you are who you are my dear,” he assured me gently. “Who do you think you should be?”

I leaned against Antonio’s shoulder and barely felt the wetness of blood spilling from my glass onto my fingers before Brenda snatched it away.

“I should be Christina,” I said, my voice sounding as hollow as I felt, even with all of the memories overwhelming my mind, “but I can’t find the center. I was happy, before, wasn’t I?”

“Before what, childe?” Antonio asked.

“Before everything was gone! Before everything came back!” I pulled back and looked at him, not sure whether I was angry or scared. “I don’t know what to do! I can’t think with all this in my head!” I pushed at my temples, wishing desperately it would stop the pressure on my mind.

“Tina—” Madelynne began.

“Don’t call me that!” I all but yelled at her, then covered my mouth in shame. “I’m sorry,” I whispered hoarsely. “Jesus, I’m so fucking sorry.” I shot to my feet without any idea of what to do next. “I just can’t—can’t find it.” I looked around wildly. “Brenda?!”

She stood up and took my face in her hands to make me look at her. “It’s okay, Chris,” she said soothingly. “I know it’s a lot, honey, but it’s going to be okay. You have to stay calm and let it all settle back into your head so you can process all of it.”

“I can’t!” I tried not to panic, but there was nothing for me to hold onto. “I just can’t find the center! What if I never find it? What if-what if I’m like Archie now?” I turned to Antonio, who was standing behind me. “Will I have to be Malkavian?”

“She’s crazy,” I heard Maggie say.

“She’s not crazy,” Brenda growled. She turned back to me and said in a softer voice, “You aren’t like Archie, Christina, do you hear me? You’ve just got a lot to process right now. You’re on overload.”

I felt Antonio’s hand on my back. “Everything will work itself out in time, childe,” he assured me. To the others, he said. “I think that all of this might be too much for her to take in at the moment.”

Too much, it was all too much. Memories flew through my mind, one after another, overlapping, contradicting, warring for control. Fighting to make some sort of sense, I reached out and grabbed hold of Brenda’s upper arms. “How can you be sure?” I demanded. “Archie was just touched; I was slapped upside the head!”

She pulled me into her arms. “I don’t know how I know, but I do,” she said softly into my hair. “It’s going to be okay. It’s only been a day.”

A day, a month, a year. Too much time had passed, decades of my life filling my mind all at once. A part of my mind was aware of people moving through the room, some leaving the house, but the only thing I could concentrate on was whatever memory had taken control of my thoughts at any given moment.

First Brenda, then Antonio held me in their arms while I cried out my grief and pain. It was a long time before the deluge retreated to a point where I could form a coherent thought and even then, all I could feel was regret and pain.


	4. Christina: Making Lists

_I was lying to myself_   
_Now I’m dying in this hell_   
_ Backstreet Boys - Crawling Back to You_

BRENDA HAD ENCOURAGED me to shower after my crying jag, but it didn’t really help keep the memories at bay. There was so much I’d forgotten, so much I wanted to remember, to hold on to, and no way to keep all of it straight in my mind.

With shaking hands, I wrapped a robe around myself and left the bathroom in search of supplies. I was vaguely aware that my hair was dripping and that I was leaving wet footprints in the carpet, but I had more on my mind than drying off.

“Chris?” I heard Brenda ask when I’d reached the kitchen. “What are you doing, honey?”

“I need a pen.” I opened a drawer, but it was full of silverware, so I pushed it closed again. “Or maybe a pencil.”

“What do you need it for?” she asked, coming closer. “Christina, your hair is still dripping. Did you even use a towel on it?” She grabbed a kitchen towel and started wiping at my hair, but I ignored her.

“I want to write,” I murmured, digging through what looked like a junk drawer. “So much to keep track of, so much to remember.”

“Why don’t you get dressed first and I’ll find you something to write with,” she suggested, still wiping at my hair. “Then you can write all you want, okay?”

Giving up on the junk drawer, I opened the next one down. “I don’t want to forget what I want to write. If I wait, I might forget.”

“Tell me what you want to write, and I’ll help you remember,” she soothed.

“Everything. I’m trying to keep things straight, but it’s so hard.” I was on the last drawer and still hadn’t found anything to write with. I didn’t want to think about what would happen if I couldn’t find anything.

Brenda grabbed my hands and held them tightly. “Christina you have to chill out,” she said slowly. “Go get dressed and I will find you a pen, okay?”

It was an effort to stop and look into her eyes. I could see the panic she tried to hide, her very real concern that I might have completely lost any hope of sanity for good. I took a breath and pushed down the anxiety burning through me. “All right,” I said when I felt I could control it. “I’ll go get dressed.”

She nodded and let me go.

I went back into the bedroom and put on the pair of jeans and a blouse that Frasier had laid out for me. I’d intended to put on the socks and shoes as well, but I was distracted by the stack the boxes in a corner of the room. Walking closer I recognized them as the ones Brenda had shipped to Detroit after I’d lost my memory.

Unfolding the flaps of the top cardboard box revealed a stack of papers and books. I recognized them, of course. It was all my photo albums and journals, the ones I’d collected over all the years of my life. The item on top was a photo album was from my mortal life.

I looked toward the door as Brenda entered the room. “Did you find a pen?”

She nodded and set a note pad and several pens on the bed. “What are you looking at?”

Reaching into the box I pulled out the photo album. Letting it fall open, I looked down at a picture of Malcolm, my mentor, my friend, my enemy. “I killed him,” I said softly.

Brenda moved closer to see what I was looking at. “Yes, you did.”

“He was going to hurt Petor, like he hurt Rafe, and I couldn’t let that happen,” I said in a low voice.

She put her hand on my arm. “I know.”

“He was my friend but more than that he was my enemy. I didn’t want to kill him, but—” I sighed, feeling a lot of things as I remembered my mentor, but mostly feeling regret. “I should have killed him a long time ago. I should never have gone to help him, no matter what I thought would happen to the Verbena’s magic.”

“What’s done is done,” she said, her voice quiet but full of meaning. “There’s no use kicking yourself because it won’t change anything. You can only move forward.”

Standing there in that room, looking down at the photo album I now remembered from my mortal life, I wondered if I could move forward. “What if there’s no forward to move to?”

Her hand came to rest on mine. “There’s always a forward, Christina. You’re a fighter. It will all work out in the end.”

“It’s all endings. There’s no beginning. Everything is over.” Everything I’d ever cared about had ended, either through my own actions, or the actions of those who wanted to punish me. I tossed the album into a small trash can in the corner. “Just entropy and decay left.”

“Stop it,” she said firmly, almost harshly as she bent to retrieve the book. “Just stop it.” She paused for a moment as if trying to control her emotions. “Look, I know this isn’t an ideal situation, but you know what, life isn’t meant to be easy. Our lives are what we make of them,” she told me. “Sitting around and moping about how they are fucked up won’t change things. You’ve got to get yourself together and then figure out what you want to do from here, Chris. Stop focusing on the negative.”

“Forget and move on,” I said with a bitter laugh. As if I could forget anything now. I’d have been better off if Malcolm had left me alone in Detroit. At least I’d been happy there, ignorant of the hurt I’d caused. “Forget what I’ve done and find the center.”

I took the pen and paper from Brenda’s hands and sat down on the edge of the bed. Across the top of the page in big black letters wrote three words.

_NO NOBLE CAUSES_

Beneath that I began to write other things, important things, words and sentences and paragraphs of things I knew it was important that I never forget again. I covered the page with words, then the next page, and the next, until the entire notebook was completely full of words. I couldn’t stop though, there was too much, too many thoughts in my head, and it was imperative that I remembered all of them before they slipped away.

“Chris?” I heard Brenda ask from the doorway. I’d been so distracted, I’d never even heard her leave the room.

Turning toward the sound, I realized that I’d gone beyond writing on paper and started writing on any surface I could. Sometime during my writing frenzy I’d pulled furniture away from the edges of the room and had spent what must have been hours writing on the walls. One wall was almost completely covered with lists in my neat handwriting, another was half covered, and the other two each had at least some writing.

Maybe I would have answered her, but another thought occurred to me and I stepped across the room to write something else down under the heading of ‘Mustang.’

_Shakes at 50, may need tire rotation, talk to Pe—_

I stopped writing and scratched off the last part. “Shit, shit, shit!” I murmured angrily. “He’s dead, I can’t talk to him. Shit!” Returning to the bed, I picked up a piece of paper with the heading of ‘To-Do’ and added _find mechanic_ to the bottom of the list. I was startled when a hand settled over mine, stilling my writing.

“Christina, what are you doing?” Brenda asked.

“Things to remember,” I told her, turning back to the nearest wall. Under the heading of ‘James,’ I wrote, _sleeping with Elvira_.

“But Christina...” Brenda protested, sounding both exasperated and scared. “You can’t just write on the walls.”

“Brenda,” Antonio’s voice came from the doorway. “Let her be. She is causing no harm.” He came over to me and put his hands on my upper arms. “Are you all right, childe?”

I wanted to pull away from him, to keep writing, but I forced myself to stand still. “There’s just so much to remember,” I told him, feeling more than desperate. “I don’t want to lose it if I forget again!”

He gathered me into his arms and held me close to his chest. “I understand you, my dear. Do not fear. Do you not see that we are all here to help you? We will always help you to remember where you come from.”

Resting my head on his shoulder, I put my arms around him, holding him tightly. “But I didn’t listen,” I said, trying not to cry. “I didn’t listen. What if I don’t listen again?”

“Hush now,” he soothed. “Everything worked out in the end did it not?”

“No!” I couldn’t stop the sobs that shook me. “It’ll never work out. Things will never—I’ll never have my life back!”

“You do have your life back,” he told me. “It may not be the exact way you want it, but you are strong. You will be okay.”

“You will, Chris,” Brenda agreed, laying a gentle hand on my back.

“No, I won’t. There’s no center,” I sobbed. “Nowhere to hide. I can’t—it was—I couldn’t r-remember! It hurt and I knew it b-but it w-wasn’t like this! N-never w-work out! N-never be o-okay! I can’t f-find the center b-because it’s g-gone!”

Antonio took my face in his hands and held me still to look into my eyes. “Christina. Have you thought that perhaps you need a new center?”

I jerked back from his grasp angrily, “Why, so I can kill that one too?” I shook my head. “I killed my marriage, and I killed Petor! I killed Malcolm too! You should just stay away from me or you might be next!”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Brenda said firmly.

“We are here for you Christina,” Antonio added soothingly.

“You don’t know that!” I yelled, backing away from them. “You can’t promise me that!”

“You are worth fighting for, childe,” Antonio said firmly, as if I should know better. “Have we not proved that already?”

He was wrong, I knew he was wrong. I’d chased them away, they’d let me chase them away, left me alone to build the life I’d thought I wanted in Detroit. And yet Antonio hadn’t really gone, had he? He’d known I’d be pissed when he made the deal with the countess to bring me back into the clan. He’d known I’d be pissed, and he’d done it anyway. He’d dealt with the countess to bring me back to the clan, risked alienating me forever, just to make sure I’d known what it was to be Tremere. He’d forced me to come back to the clan, made me come home and it had been the right thing for him to do, after all.

And Brenda hadn’t given up, not really. She’d made a deal with Malcolm to return my memories, even though I’d told her I didn’t want them. The fact that she’d done it anyway said one of two things; either she hated me enough to force this punishment on me, or she loved me enough to risk my anger. My head was too full for me to figure out which one it was.

Antonio and Brenda had made their deals and I’d done my part to kill Malcolm so the Verbena magic would continue. I had my memory back and I was home, but it wasn’t really home because my center was gone, my marriage was over and Petor was dead.

Looking frantically around the room, I searched for a way to escape the rush of thoughts burning through my mind, but the only thing I could see was the writing on the walls. Bullet points were written in long columns under headings like “Lena,” “Luke,” “Scott,” “Las Vegas,” “Verbena” and “Mustang”. Under a heading of “Don’t Forget” I’d listed several times ‘NO NOBLE CAUSES’. I didn’t remember writing any of it.

I knew I had to find some way to start living again, something to focus on, a new center, a new life. They could help me, just like they’d always been there to help me. Self pity wasn’t going to get me anywhere; it would just keep me lost in whatever maze my returning memories had left me in, a maze like the maze in Pechora with all my memories screaming at me from the mirrors. I had to find the center, but this time Malcolm wouldn’t be there, and Lightsbane wouldn’t be there, and Jason wouldn’t be there, but it hurt too much to think about him. I had to make my own center, find a way to go on alone, but I wasn’t really alone, was I? I had Brenda and Antonio and Frasier, and I just wanted....

“I wanna go home,” I said at last.

“Back to Salem?” Brenda asked, her voice hesitant, as if she wasn’t sure what my answer would be.

I nodded, feeling more than miserable. “I just wanna go home.”

For the second time in two nights I stood in the circle of Antonio and Brenda’s arms, crying desperately while they held me. It was a long time before I calmed down enough to be put back to bed.


	5. Christina: Decisions

_And we know it’s never simple, never easy_  
_Never a clean break, no one here to save me_  
_ Taylor Swift - Breathe_

LEAVING DETROIT WASN’T as easy as I wanted it to be. First, I had to convince Brenda and Antonio that returning to Salem was really what I wanted to do. Harder than that was convincing the prince I actually wanted to leave his city.

The Frenchman insisted on seeing me alone to ensure that no one was influencing my decision. I sat still while he searched my mind for signs that someone had used Dominate or another vampiric ability to convince me to leave and apologized when he seemed to have difficulty following the jumbled thread of my thoughts. Eventually he decreed that I was not under anyone’s influence and agreed that I could return with my family to Salem.

He called in the Gangrel and Tremere clan leaders to inform them of my decision, although I knew that Antonio had already spoken with Countess Victoria. Thankfully I could wait with Brenda and Frasier in a side room while the others discussed my leaving, giving me time to let my mind wander before I tried to wrangle it back to coherency.

It seemed like Zach dela Rocha was the only Tremere not angry with my decision to leave town. The Gangrel weren’t happy either, but Logan said something about taking care of Kristin Saunders that I didn’t really understand but seemed to set the Tremere off again.

Brenda stepped forward and suggested that I speak with the pack, so I moved to one side of the room to stand with Madelynne, Logan, Scott and the rest of them. It was hard to focus my mind on rational thought with all the memories rushing through my mind, but I did my best.

Logan and the others had opened their arms to me, taken me and my boys into their close-knit family despite the dangers of the Tremere Clan and my family looming over them. The pack had been willing to give their lives for me – one of them even had – when my family had left me in Detroit.

“I-I’m sorry,” I managed to say. “I need some time to figure out what I really want to do, long term.”

“Where are you going to do that?” Madelynne asked, her eyes narrowed. She had been wary of me since I’d returned to the Tremere Clan, but the suspicion in her eyes hurt.

“I know I’ve felt at home here, but things have changed,” I told her sadly. “I want—I need to get my head together.”

From the expression on her face she didn’t like hearing that, but again it seemed as if she had expected me to leave the pack when my memory returned. “I wish you luck,” she said in a low voice.

As she took Logan’s arm and led most of the pack away, I tried not to think that her words had sounded more like a curse than a blessing. Finally, Scott and I were standing by ourselves, with only Frasier staying close enough to hear anything we might say.

Scott looked down at me, his vibrant green eyes unhappy. “You’re leaving,” he said bluntly.

I looked at him sadly. “I’m sorry.”

“Back to _him?”_ He glanced at Frasier, but I knew he was talking about Jason.

“No.” I shook my head to emphasize my words. I knew that Jason had no reason to forgive me, and even if he did, I was in no shape to go back to him. “Back to Salem.” I looked up into Scott’s lovely eyes, raising a hand to touch the side of his face. “I loved you.”

Despite the sadness in his eyes he pulled me into his arms. “We could go,” he whispered into my ear. “Kentucky or wherever.”

It took everything I had not to cry. “I wish we could,” I told him as I clung to him. “I wish I could still be Tina for you. I don’t know who I am now. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“I don’t care.”

“I do.”

“I still love you,” he said in a low voice before letting me go and turning away. He pushed past Logan and walked out the door. The rest of the pack followed him out, a few of them shooting confused or even hurt looks in my direction.

I turned blindly and Frasier was there, putting his arm around my shoulders and leading me back toward Brenda. I tried desperately to hold my emotions in check, but they swirled around the memories still jumbled in my mind and I felt like I was going to lose it at any moment.

We’d barely reached Brenda’s side when Missy stomped over to us. “What did you say to him?” she demanded angrily.

With an effort of will I controlled myself enough to look at her coldly. “One might think you were jealous, Missy,” I drawled. “I wouldn’t think Scott would be your type.”

It was exactly the right thing to say to piss her off. “I’m trying to look out for the safety of my clan,” she said scathingly. “Murphy is dangerous.”

“He’s certainly no puppy,” I agreed before dismissing her by turning to Brenda. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep things under control; I had to get out of there before I took Missy’s head off. “Can we go back to the guest house? I have things to pack.”

“You haven’t told me what he said,” Missy growled, grabbing my arm.

Brenda stepped forward menacingly, and I couldn’t tell if it was that or the hard look on my face that made Missy drop her hand and take a step backward.

I turned to Zach who was standing nearby. “I would tell you if anything spoken between Scott and me would affect the clan.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “I believe that you would.”

“You’ve done a great deal for me that I’ve never thanked you for,” I told him. I could remember those things now; remember the closeness we’d shared before my embrace. I could even remember the feel of his teeth sliding into my skin.

“There was never a need,” he replied softly. “Go; find what lies in your heart.”

I stepped closer and leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you.”

As we walked out of the prince’s house, I could feel the memories closing in, overtaking my mind. I remembered every moment I’d spent with Scott, remembered how much I’d loved him, how afraid I’d been that I would lose that clarity of emotion if I ever got my memory back. My fears had certainly come true with a vengeance.

I rode back to the guesthouse on autopilot, letting Frasier and Brenda guide me. Once back in my room I began gathering the little things that had gotten scattered about when I’d looked through the boxes of my belongings.

After a few minutes of packing I stood looking down at a small box in my hand, a box filled with jewelry and small items that even two months ago had been a mystery to me. Now I knew why I kept the single diamond earring that had once been Jason’s. Now I knew why I had a small communications device stuck to the small mirror attached to the box’s lid. I didn’t need these reminders to tell me that I’d poisoned every relationship I’d ever had.

Living with Scott and the pack, I’d made a conscious decision to not pursue regaining my memories. Deep down I’d been sure that if I remembered my life, remembered my family, my husband, I’d hate myself for how thoroughly I’d ruined my life. And now I did hate myself for ruining my life.

I’d gotten Marcus Robbins killed, all those years ago. I’d forsaken my clan when I’d chosen to become a vampire. I’d abandoned Luke Thomas when the clan had called me to Salem. I’d pushed Jason away by sleeping with another man. I’d killed my mentor, and my ghoul, betrayed my clan. And now I’d broken Scott’s heart as surely as I’d broken Jason’s.

Scott had stuck by my side through everything that had happened the last six months. He’d stayed when my family had done a spell to make me remember them, when I’d thought about trying to get my memory back, even when I’d gotten Alex killed because I didn’t want to be Tremere. Scott had been willing to run with me, to leave Detroit and the pack for me, was willing to leave with me even now. Scott deserved everything that I hadn’t given Luke when we’d been together, everything that I had given Jason, before I’d lost my memory. He didn’t deserve someone who couldn’t love him with all her heart.

Suddenly the weight of my guilt was overwhelming. The sound of the box shattering against the wall in no way eased the pain in my heart, or the madness that threatened to crush my mind. I heard voices from the living room, but I had lost all control. The camera Marcus had bought me joined the box at the base of the wall, the lens cracking on impact. The picture album filled with images of my mortal life joined them.

The door opened and Brenda stood in the opening, Antonio behind her. They stood there watching me, and all I could think about was Brenda saying that if Malcolm was nice, he’d give me my memory back. I could barely see them for the rage that filled my mind, clouded my eyes, rage at myself for the mess I’d made of my life.

“Christina!” Antonio exclaimed loudly, his voice full of authority, demanding my attention. “What is wrong, childe?”

Something, everything, all of it was wrong. Nothing was right, not since I killed Malcolm. Not since Chaos had kissed me on the forehead. Not since I’d found myself standing in the snow in Russia. I threw something small and glass and it shattered on the wall next to the door, making them flinch. “I lost everything!” I screamed.

The silence left by my words was broken only when a book hit the wall.

“Christina,” Antonio said firmly, walking closer to me, “not everything.”

“I did!” A handful of DVDs went past Antonio to hit the wall behind him. “I lost Luke and Scott and J—” I grabbed the lamp and flung it across the room. “—Jason!” The taste of his name on my lips was like acid eating at my heart.

“There is nothing you can do to change the past, Christina,” Antonio said calmly, coming still closer. “You can only learn and move forward from here.”

“I don’t want to care!” I yelled, reaching into the box for something else to throw. “I didn’t care!” Another book narrowly missed Antonio on the way across the room. “I loved him!”

“I know you do,” Antonio said soothingly. “Perhaps in time you and Jason can reconcile your relationship, but for right now you need to be concerned about putting yourself back together. This behavior is counterproductive to your goals.”

“I don’t—” My surprise at his words made me stop throwing things and look at him. “You don’t understand,” I growled, emphasizing my words with an abrupt movement of my hand. “I loved him.”

He stopped as if I’d surprised him. “Loved? As in you no longer do?”

“Scott!” I exclaimed, exasperated. “I loved him, and now I-I don’t—I don’t know!”

I wanted to throw more things, to destroy everything in the room the way I’d destroyed my life, but before I could reach for anything the fight went out of me. I collapsed to the ground; my legs too shaky to stand. I wanted nothing more than to sink into oblivion, but dawn was too far away to ease my pain any time soon. I’d have to sit there and suffer through the next minute, and the one after that, hating Malcolm, but deep down I knew that the one I hated most was me.

“I don’t want this,” I cried desperately. “I just want my life back, the way it was before! I want to go home!”

Antonio took the remaining steps to my side and knelt next to me, taking me into his arms. “We leave for Salem tonight,” he soothed.

I clung to him, though I knew he didn’t understand my grief, would probably never understand it. For six years, home had been my little apartment in Vegas. For Tina, home had been with the pack. Where was I supposed to find a home now that all my foundations had been swept away? Salem had been home, when Jason and I had lived there together, but was it still the place I called home in my heart? I couldn’t see my way home through the madness swirling around my head. I was sure in that moment I’d never know where home was again.


	6. Frasier: Going Home

_Staying won’t put these futures back together_   
_So better take the keys and drive forever_   
_ Aimee Mann - Humpty Dumpty _

FRASIER SAT ON the small jet looking out the window at the tarmac of Salem’s Municipal airport. The plane had landed much earlier in the day, but of course all the vampires on board had been asleep. Now that the sun was going down the four of them would soon rise.

He couldn’t help but wonder what frame of mind Christina would be in. She’d been quiet, after nearly destroying half of the things in her room. Too quiet, Frasier was sure, as if she’d been spending too much time listening to voices in her head.

A limousine pulled up beside the plane and parked, sent, Frasier knew, by the Salem Prince in anticipation of the vampires traveling to the chantry. Not long afterward he heard movement at the back of the plane, the sound of low voices talking.

Brenda got Christina dressed and handed her over to Frasier to keep an eye on. She wasn’t much more coherent then she’d been the night before, but at least she wasn’t throwing things, or crying inconsolably.

Once Brenda and Antonio joined them, they all went out to the limo for the ride to the chantry where the prince was waiting for their arrival. Christina was quiet in the car, running her fingers along a seam in the seat and humming as if she were savoring a particularly good memory.

It didn’t take long to drive through town and as the group got out of the limo at the bottom of chantry the steps, Christina looked up at a balcony on the second floor. Frasier knew that she and Rafe had once been sent into an alternate reality from that balcony.

“Akari,” Christina murmured softly. “Darkness and death and Graves.”

Brenda nodded, leading the way up the steps. “That was a strange time.”

“I killed him,” Christina replied. “I mean, the me in that world. I killed him.”

“Yeah, well the me in that world is a hunter,” Brenda said dryly. “It doesn’t matter to us here.”

“But I killed him,” Christina repeated. “And I killed Petor, and Malcolm. I’m a killer, a monster.”

Brenda took hold of Christina’s arm and pulled her to a stop. “You are no more a monster then I am,” she insisted. “This life we lead is never easy and sometimes we make mistakes. The kind of person you are is defined by how you bounce back from those mistakes.”

“Well said, my dear,” Antonio added from the top step.

Christina shook her head sadly. “Petor may have been a mistake, and that woman I killed the night I woke up in Vegas was a mistake, but no one else was. I killed Malcolm on purpose. I killed Lightsbane, and Arcady, and that Assamite, and, Jesus, so many others deliberately. What kind of person does that make me?”

“I have killed, too, Christina,” Brenda replied calmly. “Sometimes that’s what we have to do in order to survive. You killed Malcolm because you were afraid of what he would do, of who he might hurt next. He deserved to die, or do you not remember that?”

“Malcolm deserved to die because he was going to hurt Petor,” Christina agreed, “and some of the rest of them would have killed me or my friends if I hadn’t killed them first, but it’s—I don’t even think about it anymore, Brenda. I shoot to kill and ask questions later.”

“You have been Kindred for many years,” Antonio told her gently. “I, however, have been one for much longer. That is what happens. We have many enemies and I have killed with much less provocation to protect myself and mine.”

“What’s mine,” Christina said thoughtfully, turning her eyes on Frasier. “But I killed mine, and I killed my—” She broke off and shook her head before taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. “Right, you’re right.” She looked up at the balcony for a long moment before continuing up the steps.

Once inside, Antonio led the way through the huge foyer with its towering staircase and down the hall to the prince’s sitting room where the prince was waiting. Most of the higher up Tremere were waiting with Elvira van Dorn; the chantry leader Ford Radek, the Primogen Alden Monroe, the city’s Sheriff Micky Denzol and his girlfriend Sarah Hamilton and last but not least, Cormac’s childe James Price.

Frasier kept a close eye on Christina through the formal greeting, but though she spoke when it was appropriate, mostly she kept her eyes down and her mouth closed. He knew it was too soon for her to go through something like this, but once again, it wasn’t his call to make.

Not long after they’d arrived, Christina looked into the fireplace and said in a low voice to Brenda, “She burned my phone.”

“Do you remember why?” Brenda asked softly.

She nodded, staring into the fire as if she saw something there other than the wood and flames. “Luke.”

“Are you tired?” Brenda prompted. “Maybe we should get home.”

“Home,” she murmured, her voice sounding distant.

It took several minutes for Brenda to get Christina’s attention again. She apologized, but Frasier could see that she’d had enough. Thankfully, Brenda saw that as well, and talked to Antonio about leaving. Once out of the chantry, Christina began murmuring again, rambling about things that had happened in Salem, about people she knew. She talked about Jason in a roundabout way, but never once spoke his name.

Once they got to the house, Brenda latched on to her adopted son Gabe as if she could use the child as a shield, or at least that was how it looked to Frasier. The boy was happy for the attention, babbling in Brenda’s arms as she led the group upstairs.

“I’ve put you both on the third floor,” Brenda told them as she started up the oak staircase. “Gabe’s taken your old bedroom, Christina, and the nanny has taken the third bedroom on the second floor. But there are some nice rooms up there, you should be comfortable.”

Frasier didn’t think Christina was paying much attention to Brenda’s nervous words, not from the way her hand lingered on the railing. His suspicions were confirmed on the second-floor landing when instead of following Brenda up the next flight of stairs, Christina headed for the doorway of the room she’d once shared with Jason.

“Um, Chris,” Brenda called carefully from the bottom step, “this way.”

Christina stopped and looked back at Brenda for a moment, then turned and looked toward the doorway of the bedroom. “Faeries.”

Brenda nodded and took a step up the staircase but stopped again when it was clear that Christina wasn’t going to follow her just yet.

“It was snowing in the bedroom,” Christina said softly.

“It was?” Brenda asked in surprise.

She nodded. “And a jester was telling knock-knock jokes to the wall. I wanted to leave a note, but there wasn’t time.”

“I was so scared,” Brenda whispered.

“So was I,” Christina told her. “I was stuck in the middle of nowhere and all I had was my bag and my briefcase. I had to bum a ride to Moscow with Petor. I kept trying to call home, but none of the calls would go through.”

The two women seemed to have forgotten that Frasier was standing there, listening, but he thought it was just as well. He did his best to stand there holding Christina’s suitcase and not distract them.

“Not a great time for anyone,” Brenda said quietly.

“No.” Christina continued to stare toward the door of the room she had once shared with Jason. “Have you talked to him?”

Brenda stiffened and shook her head. She bounced Gabriel a little, then said, “You should get settled.”

From the look on Brenda’s face she wasn’t willing to talk about Jason. Christina must have remembered how angry Brenda had been when Tina had broken things off with Jason, because she asked, “Are you sure it’s all right, me being here?”

“Of course, it is!” Brenda said firmly. “Why? Is there somewhere else you would rather be?”

Christina shook her head. “I know I hurt you. I hurt everyone. I don’t understand how you can want me here.”

Brenda griped the stair railing in a tight fist. “We are family, and nothing really changes that. Chris, I care about you and what happens to you. You’re my sister.”

“You were right to walk away from me,” she said sadly, turning to look back toward the stairs. “I’ve poisoned everything. I don’t understand why Antonio pushed for me to return to the clan. Everyone would have been better off without me.”

Brenda’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know that Antonio pushed to have you brought back to the clan?”

“Zach told me,” she answered. “He knew me before, you know, when I was human.”

“Zach told you?” Brenda echoed, her voice full of suspicion. “Did he say why he told you?”

“It was when he was trying to talk me into returning to the clan,” Christina said slowly, as if she was having a hard time sorting through her memories. “Something about the countess and Antonio coming to an agreement. Right before he threatened me, of course.”

“Threatened you how?” Brenda demanded.

Christina smiled bitterly. “‘Come back to the clan peacefully or I’ll make you come back’ was the gist.”

For the first time Brenda seemed sympathetic to what Christina had gone through in Detroit, before regaining her memories. “I’m sorry,” she said after a long moment, fussing with the child in her arms as if she needed an excuse not to look at her sister.

“His threats weren’t as bad as the ninja Toreador attack,” Christina said softly.

“I remember hearing about it,” Brenda murmured. “I’m sorry.”

“It was useless,” Christina said in a hard voice. “Alex died for nothing.” Without another word she walked toward the stairs to join her sister.

Brenda led the way upstairs and down the hall to what Frasier remembered as the largest bedroom on the third floor. Once inside, Brenda offered to help Christina unpack, even though she was still holding Gabe in her arms.

Frasier lifted Christina’s suitcase onto the bed and opened it before turning to one of the boxes in the corner and taking off the lid. He moved quietly through the room, putting books and movies on a bookcase while Brenda and Christina put clothing away.

The two women talked a little about Gabe, and about Christina’s godson Christopher, whom she hadn’t seen since before she’d gone to Detroit. The subject seemed to depress her, so she fell silent after only a few minutes.

“Do you intend to contact Lena?” Brenda asked.

“I gave her my blood, went to Ramadan for her,” Christina replied in a low voice. “I have to try.”

Brenda reached for her hand. “There’s plenty of time for that. Don’t rush yourself.”

“It’s already been too long,” Christina said uneasily, “over a year since I was really myself. So much has changed.”

“I know,” Brenda soothed, “but you’re back to who you were. It’ll all work out.”

“I don’t see how it can,” Christina protested. “I’m not the same person I was when I left Salem.”

“You’re right,” Brenda agreed. “I guess it boils down to whether or not you want to pick up your life again or just forget all you’ve remembered.”

“I can’t pick my life back up again, Brenda,” Christina said fiercely. “I f—” She cut off the curse, glancing at Gabriel, and made a visible effort to calm down. “I screwed everything up. J-Jason will never forgive me. I can’t even ask him to. How can I ask his forgiveness when I’ll never forgive myself? I can’t just act like the last year hasn’t happened.”

“You want to continue on without even trying to re-establish contact with people who knew you?” Brenda demanded.

“No.” Christina was getting frustrated, Frasier could see it in the set of her jaw. “I told you, I have to try. I just don’t think it’s going to do any good.”

“With that attitude you shouldn’t even try,” Brenda said firmly. “Lena will understand, I think. She was hurt by what happened, but I think that eventually she will come around.”

“And J-Jason?”

Brenda stiffened again and looked away, unwilling to meet Christina’s eye. “I’m not sure what to tell you about Jason.”

In the mirror above the dresser, Frasier saw Christina look at the baby in Brenda’s arms before shaking her head. “This probably isn’t the best time to talk about this.”

Brenda glanced at the boy as well. “You’re probably right. Will you be okay finishing up on your own? He needs a bath and I’m sure Rafe will want to help.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said firmly. “Frasier’s here. See to your family.”

With a nod, Brenda took her son out of the room. Frasier listened to her footsteps move away then go down the staircase before he turned to his mistress.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

Christina sat down on the edge of the bed and buried her face in her hands. “Nothing is okay,” she murmured. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this.”

Frasier put the book he was holding onto a shelf and went to sit beside her on the bed. “You’ll get through this,” he told her. “You’re better today than you were yesterday. You’ll get through this.”

He hoped with all his heart that he was right about that.


	7. Christina: Old Friends

_It’s the kinda ending you don’t really wanna see_   
_Cause its tragedy and it’ll only bring you down_   
_ Taylor Swift - Breathe_

IT WASN’T EASY, trying to step back into my old life. Malcolm had destroyed my whole world in a single moment, that night in Russia, but I knew it would take months, even years to get it back on track.

Frasier and I moved in with Brenda, who lived in the old Tremere chantry, a house still owned by the prince. It was more of a mansion, really, nearly 200 years of history ringing through its four floors. I wandered the rooms and walked the long halls and all I could think about was how happy I’d been here, with Jason. Everywhere I looked there were memories of him, of us together.

Brenda did her best to ease the transition, but there was only so much she could do. She spent a lot of her time with Rafe, who was still adjusting to his embrace. Antonio was there, of course, but while his presence was soothing, he still couldn’t understand the depths of my grief.

The other Tremere kept their distance, put off, I was sure, by the fact I could barely hold on to sanity long enough to have a decent conversation. Alden didn’t seem concerned about the state of my mind, saying only that I had all the time I needed to settle in.

Michael Moorecock called a few days after we returned to Salem. The moment I saw his name on the caller ID, my mind was flooded with memories of the man I considered a brother.

“I hear you’re back from the land of the lost,” he said warmly.

“Michael,” I breathed, happy to hear his voice. “I’m sorry I haven’t called you; things have been... difficult.”

“I heard that, too, kid,” he said soothingly. “How’s it going? Things making more sense?”

“Sometimes,” I replied slowly. “At least I’m not writing on walls anymore.”

“Didn’t like the decor?” His tone was one of amusement, but below that I could hear concern.

“Trying to keep everything straight,” I told him. “It’s hard, there’s so much in my head now.”

“I bet there is,” he murmured. “Are you working through it okay?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes it feels like I am, but mostly I-I can’t find the center.” I sighed. “I fucked up, Michael. I don’t know how to fix it.”

“I’ll assume you’re talking about Jason?”

“Jason, Lena, Brenda, Antonio, you,” I told him softly, “but yeah, Jason most of all.”

“Hey,” he said slowly. “It’s okay, you know? Sure, things look like shit right now, but you’ve got your memories back and that’s a huge deal. And Bren and the Old Man have already shown that they are there for you, right? That’s saying something right there.”

“Yeah,” I admitted, “except I’m not real sure Brenda forgives me.”

He sighed into the phone. “Yeah, I’m so not the one to give advice in that arena, Christina. You know that.” He hesitated a moment, then added, “How’s the little husband doing? I heard he’s one of us now.”

“Yeah, Rafe... died the night I killed Malcolm,” I told him. “I guess he’s doing all right. He hasn’t talked to me much since I lost my memory.”

“I’m sure she’s not mad, Christina,” he said firmly. “Brenda tends to save all her grudge holding for me.” Though his tone was light, I could hear the pain beneath his words.

“That’s not true, Michael,” I disagreed. “She may not be mad, but she hasn’t forgiven me. How can I expect her to? How can I expect Jason to?”

“I don’t know about Jason,” he said slowly. “He’s... well, frankly, he’s not doing so well. Graves seems to be getting through to him, but honestly, I don’t know. Listen, the important thing is that you get yourself back together, Christina. The rest can wait. You’re all back in Salem again, right?”

“It can’t wait,” I said, frustrated. “It’s been more than a year, Michael. I divorced him, for Christ’s sake. I don’t know if he can forgive me, but I have to try. I must tell him how sorry I am, how I know I fucked up. I can’t do this; I can’t be without him.” Tears fell down my face and it was hard to keep talking, but I managed. “I love him so goddamn much and I was so fucking stupid! I should have listened to everyone, but I was so fucking stupid! I just want him back! I want it to be like it was before.”

“Hey,” he soothed. “Look, trust me, I know all about fucking up, okay? But what you must keep in mind is that you have to have your shit together before trying to talk to Jason. Believe me, he isn’t going anywhere right now, and it’s only been, what, a couple of days since you’ve woke up? It’s okay.”

“It may already be too late.” I choked back my tears, wiping them from my face. “Do you—could you check into me coming to LA? Not right now, but when—when I get things a little more straightened out in my head?”

He hesitated a long moment before clearing his throat uncomfortably. “Sure, Christina. I’ll talk to Talon after you’re feeling more settled. Just concentrate on getting back on an even keel.” After a slight pause, he added, “I’ve been thinking of coming there to visit you. Would that be all right?”

We talked for a bit longer, mostly about Christmas and his plan to come into town for a visit. I hoped that my mind would have settled by then, but I wasn’t willing to bet money on it.

A few days later, Maggie called me, hysterical because Missy had called for a Blood Hunt against Scott. From what I was able to gather, Maggie had freaked out after I’d killed Petor and attacked Kristin. Scott had fed her his blood, but he’d been too late to save her mortal life. Kristin had died and risen a vampire. Since she’d been a Tremere ghoul, the clan was something less than happy about the matter.

“Missy called for Blood Hunt on Scott for what I did,” Maggie said frantically, “but he caught her first and killed her and now he’s gone and I don’t know where he is and Madelyn and Logan and Michael are going to the Prince and they told me to stay here and do _not_ go outside and no one else is here and I didn’t know who to call but I wanted to call you in case he calls you, you can tell him we miss him.…”

She seemed certain that he would call me, but I wasn’t so sure. I remembered the look in Scott’s beautiful eyes, just before he’d turned and walked out the door. I’d hurt him badly, and men didn’t turn to the women who hurt them when they needed help.

“Where are Madelynne and Logan?” I asked, interrupting her flow of frantic chatter.

“They went to the prince and told me to stay here,” she explained, sniffing, “but rest of the pack is gone and I’m not sure what they think I can do here by myself down here in the safe room. It kinda smells like plastic in here, like a _lot_, but it’s locked so—”

“All right,” I interrupted. “Why don’t you try to call Howard or Emily? See if they’ll come sit with you. I’ll try to get a hold of Scott.”

To my surprise, she agreed. I found Scott’s number on my phone, but when I dialed, he didn’t answer. I wasn’t sure if he’d dumped his phone, or just didn’t want to take my call.

The thought ran through my mind that he had several disposable phones just in case this kind of thing happened, so I began trying the numbers he’d given me for them. I left voicemail messages for him, but I still wasn’t sure he’d call me back.

To my surprise, he did call me back, a long forty-five minutes later. “Tell Maggie I am fine,” he said as soon as I answered the phone.

“Are you fine?” I asked softly.

“Yeah.” It was hard to tell from the tone of his voice if he were telling the truth.

“Are you somewhere safe?”

He gave a short laugh. “As safe as can be. Better you don’t know where.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” What I didn’t know, I couldn’t tell when the clan came asking, and I knew they would come asking. I hesitated, then said, “If you need me….”

“Yeah,” he replied, then added very softly, “I love you.”

“Scott....” Tears filled my eyes, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him that I loved him too, so I settled for the next best thing. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” he said softly. “H-how are you?”

“It’s hard, you know?” I told him. “Too much information stuffed in my brain. It’s hard to separate and categorize and know what stuff makes more sense than others. But it’s getting better, I think. A little. Sometimes.” I was losing it again, not making much sense, but I couldn’t bring myself to hang up the phone.

“Take your time,” he replied gently. “Make sure you know which end is up.”

“There is no going back, not for me, just forward,” I murmured, “if I can find a path. Be careful, Scott, with the beautiful eyes and touches to the heart.”

“I’ll be waiting at the end, no matter what path you find,” he promised. “I need to go, Tina. Be safe.”

He hung up before I could say anything else, and honestly, I wasn’t in much shape to continue the conversation. I held on to sanity long enough to call Maggie back and let her know that Scott was safe, but once that was done my thoughts fell into the confused state that I seemed to spend most of my time in. Fortunately, by the time James came to visit me a few hours later, I was in better shape to deal with his visit.

“Christina,” James said as we sat down in Brenda’s sitting room. “We received some troubling news from Detroit this evening.” 

“Missy got what was coming to her,” I said, nodding. “Too bad, really. I wanted—” Abruptly I realized that I probably shouldn’t talk about killing one clan enforcer in front of another one, especially since the second one was the Sheriff of the town that I lived in.

He let my slip pass as if he didn’t understand what I’d meant. “As you know, Missy did call for a Blood Hunt on Mr. Murphy, though its validity is still to be decided. I am here at the request of the clan to…” his voice flattened, as if he didn’t agree with his orders, “…remind you of your loyalties should one Mr. Murphy contact you before this matter can be resolved.”

“I remember my loyalties, James. I remember a lot of things.” I put a hand to the side of my head, trying to stem the tide of memories that related to clan politics and loyalties. It was all I could do to stop myself from rambling about the vow I’d taken shortly after my embrace. “Missy’s death was inevitable, really. One does not stick a hand in a wolf’s mouth and not expect to be bitten.”

“The clan would like you to relay any relevant details gained from Mr. Murphy,” he told me, “or any of the other members of the pack. I should tell you that I oversee the surveillance on this situation here in Salem.”

“Does the clan think Scott will come here?” I asked doubtfully. “’Cause that would be foolish in the extreme. Brenda would tear his head off.”

“Love makes men do strange things, Christina,” he reminded me. “At the moment it seems that the Frenchman has decided wait before passing judgment on the situation. He wants to know more about what happened before calling a Blood Hunt.”

Blood Hunts were a death sentence. If one were called, even proof of innocence would not be enough to save Scott’s life. In some cities, the prince required the subject’s sire to deliver the killing blow.

“I would think that if Zach hasn’t called for a Hunt yet for Kristin’s embrace, he’s not likely to,” I said slowly.

“_Seňor_ dela Rocha was Kristin’s master,” James reminded me. “As he’s the Scourge of Detroit, if he doesn’t believe there was any wrongdoing in Kristin’s embrace, the prince will probably agree.”

“Scott was only trying to help Kristin when he embraced her,” I said in a low voice. “Missy overreacted and he defended himself. It’s just as well. He saved me from killing that bitch.”

“But at what cost, Christina?” he asked.

“What did she cost the pack when she sent the ninja Toreador after me?” I demanded, irritated. “When she attacked time and again? No, she deserved to die. I’m just sorry I didn’t do it myself.”

He didn’t answer, as if he agreed with me but didn’t want to admit it.

“So many deaths,” I murmured, feeling sanity slipping away bit by bit. “So much blood. Scott tried to help Kristin, I tried to help the Verbena, and Lena, and Jason. I guess helping doesn’t help, does it? No noble causes.”

I could feel James’ eyes on me as I pressed my fingertips to my temples. Madness swirled at the edges of my mind, an eddy of churning memories threatening to take over once more.

“The clan may be able to convince the prince that one should be called,” James said after a moment. “However, it is my understanding that after the… ‘Ninja Toreador’ incident, as I believe you call it, she was considered something of a loose cannon. It’s possible that nothing will come of it.” He got to his feet. “I can see that my visit has been taxing on you. I’ll take my leave now.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured, closing my eyes against the onrush of memories. “I just— I can’t find the center just yet.”

He said something more, but I didn’t hear it. It was a long time before I could think coherently again.

As it turned out, James’ assessment of the situation had been dead on. Within a week the Frenchman declared that Scott had done nothing more than try to save Kristin’s life, and that he had killed Missy defending his own life. Scott was able to return to Detroit none the worse for wear.

The following night Scott began a practice of calling me three or four nights a week. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, even though I liked hearing his voice. I hated stringing him along, but I still hadn’t completely made up my mind as to what I really wanted. I’d loved Scott once, but despite everything I still loved Jason.

Yet Jason had left me, had agreed to the divorce without trying to fight it. Deep down I knew I didn’t deserve a second chance with Jason. I’d asked Michael to get permission for me to visit LA, but I knew that Graves would never let that happen. Too, Brenda was convinced that Jason would never consider taking me back.

In the end, I talked to Scott when I was lucid enough to do so and put off any decision making until I could be sure I was making the right one.

Scott wasn’t the only denizen of Detroit who wanted to stay in contact with me. Zach called barely a week after my return to Salem, asking if he could visit so that we could discuss what I remembered of Malcolm. I would have asked him to wait until I could focus for longer, but he was insistent that we talk things over while everything was fresh in my mind.

The night he and Archie came to town, I sat down with them in the conference room at the chantry. After polite greetings, Zach turned the conversation to Malcolm. Thankfully he was able to keep me from rambling too much by asking pointed questions.

“Have you had any memories of him that you cannot explain?” he asked once I’d told him what I remembered. “Any visions? Any new memories?”

“Not that I can tell,” I told him. “Sometimes it’s still a bit hard to process everything going through my head.”

“Your confusion will ease,” Archie interjected.

His voice was low and clear, with hints of a South African accent. It was so much different than what I remembered that it took me a minute to process the fact that he’d been talking clearly and intelligently since the moment we sat down. Even in my disoriented state it was obvious that Archie was no longer crazy.

“Did he touch you again?” I asked softly.

“In a way, yes,” Archie said with a smile. His eyes didn’t quite focus on me and with a start I realized that he was blind. “He took back the gift he gave me. The Power took your memories and then gave them back. It gave me all memories from those around me and took it away again when he left. I only hear my own now.”

“You had too much then.” I put a hand to my temple, trying to stave off the madness lingering on the edges of my mind. “I have too much now, hard to find the center.”

“But your mind will clear soon enough, strong daughter,” Zach assured me, “soon enough.”

“You were Malcolm’s favorite you know,” Archie said to me. “Despite it all, he did love you as if you were his own.” He lowered his voice and said to Zach, “Perhaps more than the Carrion Prince.”

I ignored the tisking noise Zach made, my mind whirling with the idea of the Carrion Prince. The name Brendan meant ‘crow’ in Welsh, and the crow was a carrion bird. And the time was coming of war and death, when the Verbena would need someone ruthless to lead them in order to survive.

Then again, carrion really was nothing more than dead flesh. That was what my life felt like to me, dead rotting meat. Every relationship I’d ever been in had crashed and burned, leaving nothing but ashes.

“Carrion is all that is left now,” I murmured. “Death and clan are all that remain.”

“What was that my dear?” Zach asked. “What do you mean?”

It took a moment to focus my mind back on the conversation. “Chaos has done all the damage he will do to me, but the world will burn nonetheless.”

“But the world _must_ burn,” Zach insisted. “In order to rise, first we must fall. Malcolm merely played his part.”

“Brendan too,” Archie added. “If you had not hated enough to kill what threatened your love, our Art would have died. They tried it differently, before. You never hated enough.”

“I don’t think you did this time either dear, but you had a bond with your servant,” Zach continued. “You acted on emotion unchecked, raw and pure rage for just a moment. But it was enough.”

“Enough,” I repeated, my voice as cold as I felt inside. “Enough to kill a man I once considered my brother. Enough to kill my servant, a man who had left his entire world behind for me. Enough to destroy my marriage. Enough to lose yet another man I loved. Enough to kill any chance I had at feeling safe and happy.” My voice was rising but I couldn’t stop it, nor could I stop from getting to my feet. “I’ve sacrificed everything that ever meant anything to me and for what? Art? Fuck that. I’ve had enough. Enough of this fucking game of chance that I always end up losing. I’m done playing.”

I was halfway to the door when Archie spoke again. “Remember what Malcolm taught you.” His voice changed, sounding so much like Malcolm I almost expected him to be there when I turned around. “To reap, first you must sow; this is the way of Life.”

“We all played our parts, and were played in return,” Zach added quickly, as if to smooth things over. “But you are right, that game is done. We will not speak of it again unless you wish it.”

I looked at Zach and said bitterly, “What I wish has never mattered in this. You can’t honestly tell me that it’s going to change now. I’ve been played and manipulated since the day I touched magic.” To Archie, I added, “I remember well what Malcolm taught me. He taught me not to trust anyone, most especially not myself.”

“Malcolm is gone, and we will not see Brendan for again for quite some time,” Zach reminded me. “Your slate is clean; your future is your own. I chased him for over 300 years, and for what? To lose friends, lovers, all that was close to me for something I couldn’t change anyway.” He sounded tired now, but not nearly as tired as I felt. “He gave you a gift so you could make of it what you wanted. You have all the knowledge you ever had, and more, to make your decision. What do you want? What is your wish, Miss Strong?”

“A gift,” I scoffed bitterly. “Is that what you call this?” I rubbed a hand across my eyes knowing it was fruitless to continue arguing with these men. Their lives had been touched by the Trimuritive, maybe just as strongly as mine had, but they seemed to think it had all meant something. “I wish I’d never met Malcolm Robbins.”

It took all I had to walk out of that room. Frasier was waiting in the hallway, but I didn’t even pause as I swept by him, intent on making it to my room before I couldn’t make it anywhere.


	8. Frasier: Fallout

_What have I done?_   
_I wish I could run_   
_Away from this ship going under_   
_ Glee Cast - Get It Right_

CHRISTINA STORMED OUT of her meeting with Zach and Archie as if the hounds of hell were on her heels. Frasier followed her back to her room and watched as she sat down on the edge of the bed, covering her face and shrinking into herself.

It was a bad sign that she shied away whenever he got close to her. After several minutes of trying to talk her out of her meltdown, he went to stand by the door, watching helplessly as she rocked and sang under her breath.

A long hour later, Brenda came to check how the meeting had gone. Frasier was more than relieved to see her.

“She’s been like this since her meeting with DelaRocha,” he told Brenda. “She freaks out every time I get close to her.”

“Were you in the meeting as well?” she asked, taking a few steps toward the bed.

“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “DelaRocha didn’t want me there, said he’d talk to me tomorrow night.”

“Shadow and shade mix together at dawn, but by the time you catch them, simplicity’s gone,” Christina sang softly in a trembling voice.

“Chris?” Brenda said tentatively. “Honey, is something wrong?”

“There are no breaks in the sky, not for me,” she murmured. “It’s all dark, all of it, everywhere.”

“Why do you say that, honey?” Brenda asked, her voice low and calm as she moved toward the bed.

Christina shook her head, her eyes still glued to a point on the wall. “I hate this story. Everything dies.”

“Chris, tell me what happened,” Brenda urged, dropping to her knees. “Something has obviously upset you. Let me help.”

“He made me hate him,” she said, her voice broken. “Made me hate everyone I loved, just so I could put a bullet in his heart. And then he put all of this in my head and it’s so dark in here.” She grabbed handfuls of her hair and pulled, as if doing so would relieve the pressure in her mind.

“I know, honey,” Brenda said gently reaching up to pry Christina’s hands out of her hair. “But we’re all done with that. We started over, remember?”

“No reset button.” It hurt Frasier to hear how badly Christina’s voice was shaking. “No break in the sky. Have to keep him safe, keep him far away.”

“Keep who away?”

“Frasier,” Christina whispered, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth. “No kisses. No kiss of death. Far away. Have to keep him safe.”

“Frasier is fine,” Brenda assured her quickly. “He’s right here, but you have him nervous because you won’t let him come near you.”

She turned her head to look at Frasier, tears in her eyes. “I’ll hurt him,” she said so softly that Frasier could barely hear her. “I don’t want to hurt him.” She turned back to her sister. “It’s dark, Brenda. There’s too much in my head and I don’t know how to find my way out.”

Brenda smoothed the hair back from Christina’s face. “I know you don’t want to hurt him, Chris. He knows that, too.” She glanced at Frasier before looking at Christina again. “You just have to remind yourself not to hurt him and you won’t. You’ve written so much down already, honey. Don’t you have it all out yet?”

Even from the doorway, Frasier could see the panic in Christina’s eyes. “What if I forget again? What if all of this in my head goes away and I forget I don’t want to hurt Frasier,” her voice dropped to a whisper, “like I forgot with Petor?”

“That’s not going to happen again, remember,” Brenda said, taking Christina’s face between her hands. “Ch—he’s gone, and he can’t make you forget again. There’s no one to lure you away from us again, or make you forget. That’s all done now, Chris, you have to not think that way.”

“But carrion is all that’s left,” Christina protested, shaking her head in Brenda’s grip. “Blood and death and games to play and people to kill and how could I do that? How could I kill him?”

“He wanted you to,” Brenda said firmly. “He picked you. The entire situation isn’t healthy, but it’s the one we’ve been dealt. You must leave the darkness behind and come back to the light, Chris. Come back to center.”

“It’s hard,” Christina murmured. “Sometimes I can see it, right there, but when I reach out to touch it, it’s gone, and I just don’t—” She stopped and took a deep breath. “My head is so full....”

“And you’re not used to that, I get it,” Brenda soothed. “I really do. Maybe you need to not search for the center too hard, yes? Did something happen during your talk with Zach to make you stretch too much for it again? You’ve been doing pretty well the last few nights.”

“He said—he said….” She put a hand to her temple and closed her eyes, obviously trying desperately to focus. “Archie said that I was Malcolm’s favorite, that I’ve played my part and I should remember what he taught me,” she told Brenda, “but Malcolm taught me that I can’t trust anyone, Brenda! I can’t trust me!”

“Of course, you can trust yourself!” Brenda insisted. “You know better than to listen to Archie, don’t you?”

“But Malcolm touched him and took away the crazy,” she cried. “He found his center and I lost mine, and—”

A movement beside him had Frasier turning to see Rafe standing beside him.

“Is she going at it again?” Rafe asked scornfully.

Frasier looked back toward the bed and saw Christina looking uncertainly at Rafe for a moment before she turned away, biting her lip. Frasier wasn’t the only one who saw that she was now reluctant to speak. Brenda tossed Rafe a mild glare before focusing on her sister once more.

“For the last time, you are not Archie,” she said firmly, “so you need to not let what he says freak you out okay?”

Christina nodded but didn’t raise her eyes from the hands she had clenched in her lap.

“Brenda’s the only one who can get through to her when she’s like this,” Frasier growled, fighting the irritation he felt at the man who had once been his friend. He knew Rafe was having a hard time adjusting to being a vampire, but the way he acted toward Christina was inexcusable.

Rafe’s only response was a disgruntled look before he walked away.

“I hate this story,” Christina whispered.

“Is everything about it bad?” Brenda asked gently.

Christina bit her lip and looked at Frasier before shaking her head. “I just need to find the center,” she pleaded.

Brenda cleared her throat and said carefully, “Have you ever thought that you may be looking in the wrong place for center, Chris?”

She looked at Brenda questioningly. “Wrong place?” She thought for a minute, then looked away. “Trying to find where I was, trying to find J- where I was before, can’t have same place, nothing is the same. Can’t center on Scott, can’t center on J- the other.” She was muttering now, talking herself through the problem, Frasier knew. “Have to make new center.”

“Christina, what does the center mean to you?”

“Jason was my center, before Malcolm touched me,” Christina said, answering Brenda’s question even while behaving as if she hadn’t heard the other woman. “Luke was my center once. Scott was a good center. Safe when I was afraid.”

“Chris,” Brenda said gently, “have you ever thought about being your own center?”

“Can’t trust me,” she said softly, her face filled with confusion. “Only death and clan left.”

“I think it might be a good idea for you to start trusting yourself,” Brenda told her logically. “This is your life, Chris. You should live for yourself, not anyone else.”

Christina was silent for a long moment, but eventually she said firmly, “No noble causes.”

“Let’s not worry about noble causes and concentrate on you,” Brenda urged. “Can you do that?”

Her head tilted to the side as if she was listening to something no one else could hear. After a long moment she touched her fingers to the center of her chest. “Have to make the center here.”

Brenda nodded and smiled encouragingly. “Yes. I think that’s a good idea.”

Her eyes fell to the floor for a long moment before she looked back toward the doorway. “He blames me.”

“Who blames you for what?” Brenda asked softly.

“Rafael,” she replied. “It’s my fault Malcolm touched him.”

“It was an end to his means,” Brenda insisted. “Don’t worry about Rafe. He’s still adjusting to his new life but he’s happy to still have one.”

Christina nodded and turned her eyes to Frasier. “I’m sorry.”

He stepped away from the doorway, walking slowly toward the bed. “I know you won’t hurt me.”

“We both know I will, O’Connell,” she said, sounding tired. “I’m sorry about Nancy.”

Frasier shook his head. “You’re more important.”

She sighed. “You’ve followed me through blood and death and you’ve never been afraid. Why haven’t you been afraid?”

“Got a thing for adventure,” he answered with a grin. “You keep me hopping.”

Shaking her head, she couldn’t help but smile at him before she turned to Brenda. “I’m sorry to be so much trouble.”

“Yeah,” Brenda replied with a smile, “but like Frasier said, you keep us hopping.”

It was clear that the crisis had passed. Christina let Frasier approach, even let him sit next to her on the edge of the bed. He brought with him a book on the Pyramids of Giza, and the distraction gave her something to focus on. For now, it was enough.


	9. Christina: A Minor Disagreement

_Sometimes, pain is all that lets you know you’re alive._  
_ Robert Jordan, Crossroads of Twilight_

AS THE NIGHTS progressed, I found myself with longer periods of lucidity. Though it was nice to be able to handle the crushing weight of my memories, with sanity came a deep sense of guilt. It was hard for me to believe that I’d turned so thoroughly against my family, against my husband, and there was no one to blame for it but myself.

A part of me wished that I’d never gotten my memory back. Without the memories I would have had no reason to plow through the past to find out who I really was, what I really wanted. Without the memories of my life in Vegas, in Salem, I could have returned to Detroit and been happy with Scott.

Unfortunately, I did remember every detail of my life with Jason, the depth of the love I’d felt for him. I wanted to see him, to look into his eyes and find out if that love had survived or if it had been driven out by Tina’s love for Scott.

But there was no way for me to see Jason, no way to find out how I still felt about him. Unless Graves agreed to let me come to LA, the only way I’d be able to see Jason would be to go to the city without the prince’s permission. That way led to certain and final death just as soon as Graves found out I was in his territory.

Scott, on the other hand, was more than willing to talk to me, nearly every night as it turned out, at least on the phone. He wanted more, wanted me to come home to him in Detroit, or barring that he was willing to come to Salem to see me.

Most nights I talked to him from the privacy of my room, but eventually the small space began to get on my nerves. It wasn’t the room I’d shared with Jason, but I still felt like his presence lingered there and I couldn’t bring myself to talk to Scott with my ex-husband so prevalent on my mind.

One night a week or so before Christmas, the house was mostly empty, and I didn’t think it would be a problem if I sat in the Library to talk to Scott. He’d filled me in on the happenings in Detroit, including how the Agency was doing, but the conversation felt wrong to me, stilted.

“I miss you, babe,” he said softly.

Closing my eyes, I had to push down my emotions to answer. “I miss you too,” I told him, ignoring the pang of guilt that cut through my heart. I did miss Scott, missed the simplicity of our relationship when I’d depended on him for strength, for safety. “Damn it, Scott, I wish I’d never gotten my memories back.”

“Come back, then,” he urged.

A part of me wanted to, really wanted to, but I knew that returning to Detroit just then would be nothing more than running away. “No, I need to face my life here.”

“Let me come to you.”

My heart ached with how much I wanted to see him again, even as it ached for Jason. “I do want to see you, but I-I don’t know if it’s a good idea. I’m still not—I don’t know what I’m doing half the time.”

“I could help,” he told me.

“I know you could.” He wanted to help, but if I let him help, he’d become my center and I’d never know what it was like to stand on my own. “Look, Brenda said to find the center, Scott, and—”

“She doesn’t own you,” he pointed out. “She can’t tell you how to think.”

“She’s helping,” I told him. It was the truth.

“I could help,” he said fiercely. “I could get permission to come to Salem.”

The sound of a throat clearing pulled my attention from the conversation. I looked over my shoulder to see Rafe walking into the room, his face dark with anger.

“Look, I can’t talk right now,” I told Scott. “I’ll have to call you back.”

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“No,” I assured him, “I’ll call you back in a bit, okay?”

“All right,” he reluctantly agreed.

Hanging up the phone, I stood and turned to face Rafe warily.

“She has sacrificed too much for you to stab her in the back again,” he said angrily as he stalked toward me. “I will not allow you to hurt her anymore.”

I couldn’t help taking a step back from his anger. “What? I’m not going to hurt her.”

“‘Oh, Scott, I do want to see you’,” he replied in a mocking falsetto voice. “I thought you wanted to get back with Jason?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I-I’m not sure yet what I want,” I said defensively. “Not that Jason would talk to me anyway.” And why was I defending myself to him? “None of that has anything to do with hurting Brenda.”

“You are unbelievable,” he growled, drawing every syllable out. “How can you stand there and say shit like that with a straight face?”

Drawing myself up to my full height, I said. “I am not doing anything to hurt Brenda. I’m doing exactly what she told me to do.”

“Yet,” he shot back. “But a couple more calls like the one you just had, and you’ll be running back to Hell Town because you can’t stand to be alone longer then it takes for dough to rise.”

“I don’t plan on leaving Salem,” I said in a cold voice, “I will be here as long as it takes to—” I stopped to put a finger on my temple, hoping to stem off the rising maelstrom in my mind. “And it’s none of your business who I talk to. You shouldn’t be eavesdropping on other people’s conversations.”

He moved closer, so close I could smell his aftershave. “Let’s get one thing straight. This is my house, Christina,” he said, his voice low and menacing, “and thanks to your helpful friend we’re on a little bit more of a level playing field now. I’m not going to let you ever treat my wife the way you did ever again. You got that?”

It was everything I could do not to retreat again. “Yeah, you went through some changes, didn’t you? Everything feels different,” I said in a low voice. “You know, maybe you oughta be less concerned about me hurting Brenda than you hurting her.”

“You don’t get an opinion on my relationship with my wife. Be careful Christina.” With that he turned to leave.

“Hit a sensitive spot, did I?” I said, taking a step after him. “Not feeling the same toward your wife, are you? I can see it in your eyes when you look at her. Not quite as devoted as when you were drinking her blood.”

To my surprise, he grabbed a figurine from a low table near him and threw it across the room, where it shattered against the fireplace. “Fuck you!” he yelled. “You have no idea what this is like for me! It wasn’t supposed to happen this soon, and it doesn’t help that I have to fight for my sire’s attention because of you!”

“I do know what it’s like to have everything change,” I said in what I hoped was a soothing voice. “I know what it’s like to have feelings you’ve based your life on suddenly disappear. And I know that I need Brenda a lot, but I’m getting better, and I’m really not trying to take her away from you.”

His voice dripped with dislike. “Your sympathy is too little, too late.”

And just like that whatever compassion I’d felt for him was gone. “Yeah, whatever. We’ll never be bestest friends, I get it,” I told him, injecting as much sarcasm as I could manage into my voice. “But you’d better make up your mind whether you still love your wife or not. I will not let you treat her the way Michael did.”

“I am nothing like him,” he spat, his voice low and dangerous.

“No?”

Before I could contradict him, I heard a voice from the doorway into the hall.

“What’s goin’ on?” Howie asked.

“Nothing,” Rafe said in a tightly controlled voice.

Howie moved around Rafe and his eyes went from me to the pieces of the figuring lying in pieces on the mantle. “Everything okay?”

“It’s fine,” I told him, my voice as tightly controlled as Rafe’s had been. “I was just going to find Frasier.” Turning around I left the room through the door into the dining room, avoiding coming anywhere near Rafe and his anger.

By the time I found Frasier, my mind was fragmenting again. He didn’t understand my insistence that we leave for the chantry immediately, but thankfully he did what I asked, gathering enough for us to spend the day there.

I probably wouldn’t have been able to stem off the insanity at all if it hadn’t been for the fact that had I called Scott freaked out about my encounter with Rafe, he’d have come to Salem right away. With a sheer effort of will I managed to calm down enough to call him and let him know that everything was all right. He didn’t believe me when I told him that Rafe wasn’t giving me any problems, but he did let the issue go.

He also asked again if he could come visit me, but I knew I wasn’t in any shape yet to talk to him face to face. We talked for a little while longer, but once I hung up the phone, I gave up any pretense at trying to control the madness inside of me.


	10. Frasier: Moving Out

_All paths lead to the center. _   
_ Ron Renda_

FRASIER STOOD NEAR the door of one of the chantry’s basement labs watching Zora Yale grill his mistress on one of the higher levels of Thaumaturgy. After the bout of madness the night before, he was glad to see that Christina was able to answer Zora’s questions easily.

He still wasn’t sure what had set her off. He’d been cleaning his handgun when Christina had burst into his room, insisting that they had to go to the chantry immediately and refusing to tell him why. He’d packed up what they’d needed for an overnight stay, but by the time he got her into the car, she was rambling about taking all of Brenda’s time and finding her center so fast he couldn’t really understand what she was saying.

Earlier tonight he’d had to convince her to put away her laptop to come down and test with Zora. Christina had progressed from paper and pens to text documents on the computer, but when the writing mood hit her, it was difficult to convince her that writing down everything she could remember could wait while she did other things.

He heard the door open and turned to see that Brenda had entered the room.

“Good evening,” she said softly, trying not to interrupt the testing. “How’s she doing tonight?”

The question was one of habit by now, a way of measuring Christina’s progress as she gained a hold over her memories. “Pretty good, so far,” he told her. “A bit of confusion earlier, but she came out of it quick enough.”

“Anything different then what she’s been experiencing?” Brenda asked as she watched her sister.

He hesitated a moment, wondering if he should mention her mania the night before, but decided that since that episode had passed there was no need to worry Brenda about it. “No, not really.”

“Good,” she said with a smile. “I can’t stay; I’ve got to get upstairs. I’m working with Alden tonight on some theories, so you know where to find me if either of you need me. I think Rafe said something about sparing tonight.”

“Yeah.” He hesitated again, but this topic was one he thought he had to bring up, “Hey, Brenda, I just—look, she said something last night about taking too much of your attention. I think she wants to learn how to stand on her own two feet, you know? I wouldn’t say anything, but I don’t want you to be offended if she says something to you about finding a house for us.”

Brenda frowned and turned to face him. “Frasier, where is this coming from? She doesn’t need to move out. That house is so big we could fit a dozen more people there if we needed to.” She seemed shocked that Christina would want to move out. “I’m not harping on her too much am I?”

“No, no, that’s not it at all.” He glances at his mistress, happy to see that she was fully engrossed in demonstrating her abilities to Zora. Taking Brenda’s arm, he led her out into the hallway where they wouldn’t be overheard. “I think it’s what you said the other day, you know? About finding her own center. I think she’s afraid if she relies on you too much, you’ll be her center.”

“Oh, I can see her point I guess,” she said slowly, looking back through the open doorway. “If that’s what she wants then how can I stand in her way? Maybe we can arrange something at the Bed and Breakfast for the two of you. That way there will be a certain level of protection for you still.”

The basement of the Sarah Goode Bed and Breakfast, which Frasier knew Brenda owned, had several rooms that were completely protected from the sunlight. They would be a safe place for Christina, and more importantly a private place where she wouldn’t have to worry about the clan’s reactions to her occasional bouts of mania.

“Don’t you need that when Kindred come into town?” he asked.

Brenda shook her head. “My sister is more important.”

“Okay, but I don’t want to tell her we talked about this,” he told her. “Can you suggest it when she brings it up?”

“Sure, no problem,” she said with a smile as she glanced down at her watch. “I need to go. If I’m late Alden will give me menial tasks to do all night. Talk to you later?”

“Sure.” Frasier watched her walk down the hall before going back into the room to watch Christina work.

It was hours later when Brenda rejoined them. Christina’s concentration had splintered sometime around one o’clock and Zora had told her to take a break. Frasier had set Christina’s laptop up on one of the tables and spent the last half an hour watching her type furiously while muttering about what to do when someone rose a vampire.

Brenda looked to Frasier when she entered, and when he nodded, she walked closer to Christina, saying softly, “Hey, what are you doing?”

“Oh!” she said, startled into looking up at Brenda. She took her hands from the keyboard, but her fingers flexed as if they itched to continue writing. To Frasier’s surprise, she managed to rein in the impulse. It was the first time he’d seen her do so without someone talking her away from her writing.

“I’m just-just making some notes,” she said nervously. “Don’t want to be taken by surprise if anything happens to Frasier.”

“Good idea,” Brenda told her. “How is your night? I stopped by and talked to Frasier while you were working earlier.”

“Then he told you I had an episode earlier,” she said sheepishly, glancing toward the doorway.

Frasier smiled at her, letting her know without words that he didn’t mind taking care of her.

“Yeah,” Brenda admitted. “You okay?”

“Better, now,” she replied, “mostly. Look, I was thinking, Bren, and I know you’ve been a big help to me, through all this crazy shit, but I need to figure out how to get a handle on this myself, you know? Pull myself back from the abyss, be my own center.”

Brenda nodded and sat down next to her sister. “Sounds like a good idea to me. What do you have in mind?”

Frasier watched Christina’s hands move restlessly, as if she were reaching for a ring to turn it nervously on her finger. He’d seen her do that before, when she’d worn her wedding ring. That ring was put away now, in a velvet pouch at the back of a drawer, but he knew she took it out sometimes to look at.

“Well, I don’t want you to be upset or anything, and I don’t want you to think I don’t appreciate the help you’ve given me or anything,” Christina said nervously, watching Brenda’s face as if afraid of her reaction. “It’s been great, living in the mansion again and spending time with you and everything, it’s just that I think maybe if Frasier and I found our own place, maybe it would help me stand on my feet more.”

“I’ll be honest, it’s not an idea I’m fond of. The mansion is so large with just us there now.” She put her hand on Christina’s arm. “But if this is something you think you need to do then I’ll support you.”

Relief showed on Christina’s face. “I’m not sure if I can find something quickly, but I can stay here at the chantry until we find something.”

“There’s always the Bed and Breakfast,” Brenda offered. “There’s a Kindred suite in the basement. You would be safe there.”

“Safe,” she said thoughtfully. From the doorway, Frasier could see her eyes moving frantically, jumping from one spot on the wall to another, as it did when she was agitated. “I’ve been talking to Scott. I thought you should know. I don’t want you to think I’m hiding anything from you.”

“I know you’ve been talking to him,” Brenda replied, sounding confused. “It’s been almost a week hasn’t it?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to make sure you knew I was still talking to him,” she said in a strained voice. “I didn’t want you to find out later and think that I’d lied to you. He wants to come see me, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”

“Don’t push yourself into any rash decisions.” Brenda’s voice held little emotion, which told Frasier she didn’t like the idea of Scott visiting at all. “Remember what we talked about? Finding your center?”

“I know, I know,” Christina told her. “That’s why I want to wait until I have better control, better grasp over just me first.”

“You’ve been doing a great job so far,” Brenda said encouragingly.

“Maybe,” Christina allowed. “Sometimes I feel like I’m doing okay, but most of the time I’m overwhelmed. Are you sure you’re not upset about me wanting to have a place on my own?”

“Well, of course I don’t want you to move out,” Brenda told her as she gave her a quick hug. “I love having you and Frasier around, but I understand your need to establish some freedom for yourself. It’s not like you’re leaving town, right? We’ll still see each other all the time. Besides,” she said as she leaned back in her chair. “Gabe needs his Auntie.”

Christina smiled. “It’ll be better, really, you’ll see. I’ll get better,” she added in a hesitant voice, as if she wasn’t sure she meant it.

Brenda had been serious about the rooms at the Bed and Breakfast. She made a quick phone call before sending Frasier over to get a key. He was happy enough to leave Christina in her capable hands while he moved most of their belongings to their new home.

The Bed and Breakfast seemed to agree with Christina. She still had periods of mania, but they came less often and were less severe as the nights progressed. Frasier thought perhaps it had something to do with getting her away from Rafe.

Rafe had always been friendly with Frasier, but after Rafe had been injured in the effort to find Christina in Detroit he’d had no patience for her. Becoming Kindred only made Rafe’s attitude toward her worse. He avoided her as much as possible, and the tension in his body when she was around was obvious to anyone looking for it.

Frasier was sure something had happened the night Christina had demanded to go to the chantry. Before that night, all the tension in their interactions had come from Rafe. Afterward whenever they were in the same room, they both radiated tension. Christina never said anything, but it was clear that each of them were waiting for the other to do something wrong.

Christina and Frasier spent a few nights helping Brenda decorate the mansion for Christmas, and Frasier was aware of Rafe’s eyes on his mistress nearly every moment. At least, every moment he wasn’t being extremely affectionate to his wife. Frasier noticed that Rafe was more attentive to Brenda when Christina was in the room than when she wasn’t, as if he was trying to prove something to her. Brenda didn’t seem to notice.

As Christina’s mind grew clearer, the clan expected more from her. She spent long hours at the chantry, running through exercises for Alden and Ford, showing them what she remembered and what she had learned while in Detroit. Frasier wasn’t exempt from the exercises, though he worked with the less prominent members of the clan.

Frasier kept a close eye on his mistress as she began the process of rebuilding her life. He watched as she wrote a halting letter to Lena Stockton and helped her pick out gifts for Lena’s son before taking them to the post office to send them on their way to the Holding.

He also listened just out of sight when she called Estrea Moreno and asked hesitantly about Jason. Given the fact that Christina retreated into a bout of mania after hanging up the phone, he was guessing the news hadn’t been good. He held her while she cried and prayed that time would heal the wounds Malcolm had inflicted on her heart.


	11. Christina: Holiday Parties

_Truth is like the sun. You can shut it out for a time, but it ain’t goin’ away._   
_ Elvis Presley_

BRENDA DECIDED TO celebrate the holiday season in style, with huge parties at both Christmas and New Year. Since I hadn’t seen Michael in a while, she agreed to let me invite him, and he was happy enough to agree to come.

Michael flew into town on Christmas Eve and Frasier and I went to the chantry to meet with him once he’d seen the prince. He’d told me he was bringing a guest, but it wasn’t until he introduced Meg Carmichael as his childe that I realized she wasn’t his new girlfriend.

The last time I’d seen Michael he’d been leaving Detroit, still upset that the Sabbat had come after him once more and angry that I’d refused to give in to my family’s demands that I leave with them. We’d talked a few times over the months I’d lived in the city, mostly after I’d been forced to return to the Tremere, and of course after I regained my memory, but I was anxious about seeing him in person.

Things were a little uncomfortable at first, but it quickly became clear that Michael held no lingering resentment toward the way I’d treated everyone during my stay in Detroit. I was grateful for that. My foray to Detroit had cost me enough; I didn’t want it to cost me my brother.

After a little while Antonio and Meg were talking about the club she owned in LA and I took the opportunity to lean close to Michael

“Ha-have you seen Jason lately?” I asked in a low voice.

His expression changed, going softer, as if he felt sorry for me. He reached for my hand and held it gently. “I’m sorry, I haven’t. I’ve heard that he does an extensive amount of patrolling every night. The outskirts of the city are constantly infested with Sabbat looking to gain a foothold.” He gave my hand a soft squeeze. “He’s making quite a name for himself among the Kindred there as someone to avoid.”

I tried not to clench my hand around Michael’s. I hated the thought of Jason in danger without me there to help him. “Have you had a chance to ask Graves about me going to LA?”

He winced. “Yeah, about that,” he began.

“It’s okay,” I said sadly, my heart sinking even further. “I didn’t expect him to give me permission to go.”

“I’ve also heard that Jason’s... well, not himself,” Michael told me. “I think Talon is trying to protect him.”

Antonio had apparently heard what we were talking about and put a hand on Michael’s shoulder. “Perhaps this isn’t the best—”

“She deserves to know,” Michael interrupted. “A lot has happened, we all know that, but Christina has her memories back and she deserves to know where everything stands.”

“No, it’s all right,” I told them both. “I’m not really ready to see him yet, in any case. Perhaps by the time I am, Graves will change his mind.”

Michael squeezed my hand again. “I will keep an ear out and if I think Talon becomes approachable I will.”

“I appreciate that, Michael, I do.” I had to believe that Graves would relent and let me see Jason. And yet, even if Graves did let me go to LA, what could I say to Jason? I’d treated him so badly that I didn’t see how he could stand to give me another chance. The way I’d screwed things up, I knew I really didn’t deserve one. And it wasn’t like Jason was the first man whose life I’d destroyed.

Thoughts of Luke, Jason and even Marcus threatened to take over, swooping in to drive out all rational thoughts. With a huge effort, I forced them back down, something I couldn’t have done even two nights ago. Faking a smile, I turned the conversation to something less likely to send me reeling.

By the time Brenda showed up a half hour or so later, I’d managed to relax enough that I was enjoying visiting with Michael and his new childe. Meg was cool, but pleasant, and knew a lot about the entertainment industry that I never would have guessed. She had a way of putting people at ease that I appreciated.

Michael and Antonio stood when Brenda came in with Rafe and Howie following close behind.

“Ah, Brenda,” Michael said with a smile. “How lovely it is to see you again.”

“Michael,” she said as she stepped closer to him. “Good to see you, too. How are you?”

He gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Better, now that our dear sister has returned home. And you?”

“I’m good,” she replied. “Busy with all the holiday preparation but it’s been a lot of fun. Did you know that we’ve adopted a little boy?”

“Yes, I had heard.” He looked around as if he expected to see Gabe and looked a bit disappointed when he realized the child hadn’t come. “I’m sure he is enjoying the holiday season.”

“He is,” she said with a smile. She glanced at Rafe and added, “It’s hard for us, obviously, but I’m glad we have Howie and an au pair to look over him during the day. You can meet Gabe when you come to the New Year’s party.”

“I look forward to it.” Michael turned to Brenda’s companions. “Mr. Brown, Mr. Dorough,” he says by way of greeting.

Rafe moved forward and put his hand on the small of Brenda’s back. “Michael.”

Brenda introduced Michael to Howie and asked after Birkoff, who had come to town with Michael, but was busy with business tonight.

“I expect he will be with me on New Year’s Eve,” Michael said, then added, “Brenda, I’d like you to meet Meg Carmichael, my childe. Meg, this is Brenda, her husband Rafe Brown, and Howie Dorough.”

Brenda’s body stiffened as she looked at the other woman. “Miss Carmichael.”

Meg shook Brenda’s outstretched hand. “I’ve heard so much about you, Mrs. Thompson-Brown. It’s good to meet you at last.”

“I remember you,” Brenda said softly, a frown gathering on her brow. “Carmichael isn’t the name you were using,” She glanced at Michael questioningly. “Matthews, maybe?”

Meg’s voice went from cool to cold. “It’s Carmichael now.”

“It’s a long story,” Michael said quickly, shooting Meg a concerned look before saying to Brenda. “It’s good of you to join us this evening.”

“I’m glad you were able to come to town,” Brenda replied, her voice a bit brittle. “I think it will be helpful for Chris to have you here.”

Though the conversation moved on to other topics, I could tell that Brenda was really bothered by Meg’s presence. It took me a few minutes to remember that back when Brenda was Michael’s ghoul, she’d wanted Michael to embrace her, and that he’d had adamantly refused. Obviously, she was upset to know that he’d given Meg the one thing he’d refused to give to Brenda when they’d been lovers.

Brenda and Meg didn’t hit it off very well, but I didn’t expect Brenda to get along with any woman in Michael’s life, even though she was married to someone else. Rafe seemed to notice his wife’s bitterness and engaged Meg in conversation as if to find out why Brenda didn’t seem to like her.

I let the conversation in the room wash over me without paying attention to it, taking the opportunity to let my thoughts drift when no one would notice. It was easier to do that sometimes, let the chaos in my mind run free until I needed to rein it in.

Our visit continued for another hour before Michael and Meg excused themselves, saying that they had a lot to prepare for Brenda’s party the following night. Frasier and I left as well, returning to the Bed and Breakfast and the sanctuary of my room there so I could rest in preparation for what was sure to be a busy night.

Brenda’s Christmas party was a huge success, of course. She looked beautiful in a red strappy dress that made her skin shine. Frasier and I went early to help finish getting everything ready, as did Rafe’s sister Sam and her husband AJ.

Once people started arriving, Brenda was tied up with her guests, Gabe held securely in one arm. The fact that the mortals gravitated to the dining room or den, while most of the Kindred wound up in the living room made it seem like two different parties. The band Brenda had hired was fantastic, but it all got to be too much for me very quickly.

Seeing how proudly Brenda showed off her son made my heart ache. Somewhere in that first hard wave of memories had come the knowledge that I too had once been a mother. My sophomore year in college I’d found myself pregnant and alone, and somehow managed to hide the child’s existence from everyone.

Everyone but Malcolm, that was. I’d given birth and promptly given the boy up for adoption, hoping to keep him from Malcolm’s reach. It seemed I’d succeeded in that, though I’d never known what had become of the child. He would be eleven by now, nearly a teenager and no longer a child. I hoped he was somewhere safe, and happy.

The fact that I’d had a child was a secret I resolved to keep close to my heart. No good would come from telling anyone about him, or from trying to find him. I was a vampire now, a monster, and he was better off never knowing the truth about the woman who had given birth to him.

I could feel memories pushing at my mind, demanding my attention. I knew if I didn’t get away from the crowd, I was going to lose it where everyone could see, and I didn’t want to ruin Brenda’s party. I made my excuses to the people I’d been talking to and started up the long staircase. I’d barely made it around the curve and out of sight from the guests when I had to sit down.

Wrapping my arms around my legs I hugged my knees to my chest, burying my face in the silky green fabric of my dress. It was all I could do not to start crying or screaming. Memories of past Christmases flew through my mind, one after another with no seeming end. The tree Petor and Maggie had put up in the apartment above the pub in Detroit. Dancing with Jason under the mistletoe in the ball room of this very house. Riding behind Luke on a motorcycle through the desert. Standing with Malcolm as he led the group in a Yule ritual. Sitting in a little church in Helena as my father gave a Christmas sermon.

Eventually the tide of memories slowed, and I was able to take a deep breath. I sat up carefully, hoping that my mind would stay calm. I forced myself to think back on the things I’d remembered, knowing that it was the best way to stop those memories from overwhelming me again.

“Chris? You okay?”

I looked up to see Brenda coming up the stairs. “Um, yeah,” I said slowly, hoping it was true. “Sorry, I just needed a minute alone.”

“Want some company?” she asked, taking another step.

As much as I wanted to say yes, Brenda didn’t need to spend another night talking me down, especially not with a house full of guests. “I don’t want to take you away from the party,” I told her with a shake of my head.

“I can take a couple minutes,” she said, coming to sit on the step next to me. “I gave Rafe the baby, I think he’ll need a diaper change soon,” she said with a chuckle.

That made me smile. “Nice evasion.”

“Gotta get out of that while I can.” Her eyes ran over my face, and I knew she was checking for any sign of instability. “You having a good time?”

“Yeah, it’s nice to catch up with everyone,” I admitted, “but it was getting a bit overwhelming. I just needed a minute to put it in perspective.”

“I understand.” She reached out to touch my hand. “Want me to leave you alone?”

“No, it’s better now,” I told her honestly, “or nearly so. It’s easier to get a grip on things now, thankfully.”

“Finding your center?” she asked quietly.

“Getting there.” And I was getting there, thankfully. “It helps, living at the B&B. Thank you for understanding that I needed time to myself.”

“Of course,” she told me. “Thank you for being honest about needing your space.”

“I’m able to focus better where it’s quiet, you know?” I told her. “No one to freak out when I—”

Of course, Rafe chose the worst possible moment to find us sitting together on the stairs. My mind flashed to the sight of the figurine shattering against the fireplace and the words he’d yelled at me rang in my ears.

“No one freaks out when you what?” Brenda prompted, glancing at her husband who was carrying Gabriel up the stairs.

“It’s not important,” I told her, patting her hand. I stood up and shook out my skirts. “I’m going to go have a word with Zora. I’ll talk to you later.”

I didn’t wait for Brenda’s reply. Rafe eyed me as I walked past him down the stairs, his face carefully pleasant. We both knew I wasn’t fooled.

Michael arrived at the house while Brenda was upstairs, and I was grateful for the distraction from my thoughts. Meg was with him, as was Birkoff, who I hadn’t seen in several years. I introduced him to Frasier, and they seemed to get on well from the start.

When Brenda joined us, Michael seemed enthralled with Gabe, but I could tell that Meg was less than thrilled to see the baby’s mother. We all watched in amazement as Michael held the child, but soon enough it was Gabe’s bedtime.

By the time the presents were passed out I could feel my hold on sanity faltering. Frasier and I excused ourselves early to return to the Bed and Breakfast where I could let my mind wander in the dark stillness of my room.

As the end of the year approached, I finally felt that I was making progress. I had a handle on most of my memories, and the few times they overwhelmed me came less and less frequently. I was getting better at hiding those spells too, so that a casual observer might think I was completely cured.

Brenda’s New Years Eve party was Kindred only, and most of the city’s vampires and their ghouls showed up. I spent most of my time with one member of the Tremere clan or another, although I was happy to talk to Michael when his time wasn’t taken up by other Ventrue.

I did notice Rafe glaring at one of the Ventrue ghouls, and apparently Brenda noticed it as well. Near midnight I thought about asking her what the deal was with the guy, but since she was standing next to Rafe, I thought it was probably a bad idea.

Unfortunately, she saw me looking in her direction and gestured for me to join them. I did, making sure to stay as far as I could from Rafe and still be polite.

“It’s almost midnight,” I told her. I knew there was a sad smile on my face, but I couldn’t turn it to a happy one. This time a year ago I’d celebrated midnight with Scott at Walker’s Pub, and the year before I’d been here in Brenda’s house with Jason.

She took my hand, pulling my thoughts from the past. “It is,” she said with a smile. “A new year, time for starting fresh.”

“Yes, new beginnings,” I agreed.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Rafe staring at that same Ventrue ghoul. Brenda noticed as well, her body stiffening. While I was happy to see that she wasn’t oblivious to her husband ogling another man, I felt bad for her, for what I thought might be coming.

“Doing better now?” Brenda asked, drawing my attention.

“Yeah,” I murmured as Rafe turned to pay attention to our conversation, “most of the time.”

“Good.”

She gave me a half hug that I gratefully returned. It was very close to midnight and Brenda and I continued to talk while Rafe listened and nodded when appropriate. While he wasn’t watching the ghoul, it was more like he was trying to not watch the ghoul.

Brenda and Rafe kissed when the clock struck twelve, and across the room I saw Michael kissing Meg on the cheek. Brenda’s arms went around me, and I returned both her hug and her wish for a Happy New Year.

Soon afterward Antonio excused himself from Zora and came over to join us, kissing both Brenda and me on the cheek. “Happy New Year, ladies, Rafael.”

“You, too, sire,” Brenda replied.

I tried to smile, but the night was beginning to wear on me.

Antonio put his hand on my shoulder. “I think our Christina has had enough for tonight,” he told Brenda. “Rafael, will you fetch her man and have him meet us outside?”

Rafe nodded and moved away.

“I’m fine,” I protested.

“It’s fine,” Brenda told me. “You’ve done really well; I don’t want you to push it.”

“There is no shame in needing rest, my childe,” Antonio added, tucking my hand into the crook of his arm. “We know you are not an invalid, but we also know when you have had enough.” He nodded at Brenda and began to lead me away.

I suppose it was a measure of my weariness that I didn’t protest as he took me downstairs and out the back door of the mansion. The night was clear and cold, though being vampires, the low temperature didn’t bother us as we waited for Frasier to join us.

“Tell me how you are really doing, Christina,” Antonio urged. When I would have spoken, he held up a hand. “Do not tell me you are fine, tell me the truth.”

I sighed and let go of his arm to take a few steps away from him. The garden was dark, and half covered with snow, the beautiful flowers and greenery hidden by winter’s coat. My mind felt that way much of the time, covered with a layer of white haze that blocked my true self.

“I was happy without my memory,” I said slowly. “I was happy with the pack, with the agency, with Scott. I was happy until the clan decided they had to have me back at all costs, and that cost was the lives of my friends. I was happy until my memory came flooding back.”

“Christina, we only wanted what was best for you.” His low voice sounded pained.

“I know you did.” With a sigh I turned to face him, reaching out to take his hand. “I know you just wanted me to be Tremere again, Antonio, and I know what it must have cost you to make that happen, what it could have cost you. I’m glad you did it. I’m glad you made me come back.”

“I could do nothing else, childe,” he told me, squeezing my hand. “You’re my daughter; I had to look out for you.”

“And I’m grateful for that, I am,” I said earnestly. “I just… when I woke up in Detroit, once I had a moment of clarity, I just wanted to go home, you know? I thought Salem would be home, but….”

I didn’t feel safe in Salem, no matter how much I wanted to. Memories of changelings and a Russian winter made me wary. I found tears in my eyes once more but refused to give into them. Antonio didn’t deserve my grief. He didn’t deserve anything I’d given him in the months my memory had been lost.

He looked down at me with concern in his eyes. “But it’s not?”

“No, it doesn’t feel like home to me anymore,” I admitted sadly. “I’m afraid I won’t ever be able to find home again.”

“Perhaps Salem isn’t the right place for you, my dear,” he suggested. “Most of your time here was with Jason. Why don’t you come back to Las Vegas?”

Las Vegas, where I’d lived for years before Jason had found his way into my life. “I don’t know,” I said carefully, looking up at him. “I-I was happy in Vegas, before I met Jason.”

“And it could well be that you’d be happy there again,” he pointed out. “Think about it.”

“I will,” I promised.

And I did think about it, after Frasier and I returned to our rooms at the Bed and Breakfast. Vegas had been home to me once, the only home I’d been able to remember for years. I’d met Antonio there, not long after my embrace, and Estrea, Michael, Luke, even Brenda. I couldn’t help but miss the bright lights and the crowded casinos, but I wasn’t sure how my sister would feel if I moved that far away.

I was still thinking about it when Frasier and I went to the chantry the next night to visit with Antonio, Michael and his entourage before they left for the West Coast. There wasn’t time for a long visit, just enough to say our goodbyes.

“Come and see me soon,” Antonio told Brenda and me. “I will miss my girls. You know how very proud I am of both of you.”

Brenda hugged him first, and when it was my turn, instead of letting me go after our hug, he held on to my shoulders.

“Please think of my suggestion,” he said gravely.

I nodded. “I will let you know what I decide.”

From the corner of my eye I could see Brenda looking between us questioningly.

“I believe it would be good for Christina to spend some time in Las Vegas,” he explained with a smile, letting his hands fall away from my shoulders. “While I know you are capable of looking after her, she should not be your responsibility.”

To my surprise, she smiled at me. “Whatever you think is best, sire,” she told Antonio.

Relieved that she wasn’t upset at the idea of me leaving town, I returned her smile. All that was left now was to actually decide what I was going to do.


	12. Broken Bridges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The remainder of this story is from Christina's POV.

### Book 2: Making Choices

_Everything’s all wrong, yeah_  
_Where the hell did I think I was?_  
_ Goo Goo Dolls – Sympathy_

THINGS WERE QUIET in Salem after Michael and Antonio left town. I split my time between testing at the chantry and trying to get control over the memories that still sometimes crowded my mind.

I continued to talk to Scott a couple of times a week, though calls from the rest of the pack had dwindled to practically nothing. He continued to ask me to return to Detroit, if only for a visit, but I wasn’t ready for that. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be ready to visit Detroit again.

A few weeks after the New Year Scott had some news that surprised me.

“I have permission to come to Salem,” he said, his voice holding no little excitement.

“You do?” I asked, surprised. “That’s—that’s good,” I added, hoping I wasn’t lying. “It’ll be good to see you again. When do you fly in?”

He gave me the details of his flight but assured me that I wouldn’t need to pick him up at the airport. We talked for a few minutes longer, but I had an appointment with Alden that I couldn’t miss, so we cut the call short.

I didn’t really want to tell Brenda about Scott’s visit. We’d gone a long way toward rebuilding our relationship, but I knew my sister well enough to know that she wouldn’t really be happy if I moved back to Detroit. Yet since my memory had returned, Brenda had been quite adamant that Jason would have no interest in reconciliation. She was clear in her opinion that my marriage had ended with the divorce and that there was no hope he would ever forgive me.

The night before Scott flew into town, I knew I couldn’t put it off any longer. I found her studying at the chantry and asked if I could talk to her for a few minutes. When she agreed, we went to a relatively secluded area of the library to talk.

“Elvira agreed to let Scott come in for a visit,” I told her as we sat down. “I guess the countess and Madelynne both vouched for his good behavior.”

Brenda nodded. “Where will he be staying?”

I shrugged. “Ethan Wilson is putting him up, I guess.”

Ethan wasn’t the Gangrel Primogen, but he might as well have been. Rain, the actual Primogen, was very reclusive. They were the only two Gangrel in the city.

“That’s nice,” Brenda said neutrally. “When is he coming?”

“Wednesday night,” I told her. “Michael’s letting me use the house here to visit with him, I didn’t want to take him to the B&B, and really, I wasn’t sure where else to go.”

She nodded, relieved, I think, that I hadn’t asked to use her house for the meeting. “That was very nice of Michael to offer. Will it be just Scott visiting?”

“Yes, Maggie wanted to come, but Elvira was pretty adamant that she wasn’t allowed anywhere near Salem,” I told her with a wry smile. “The countess wanted to send a chaperone to keep an eye on him, but Elvira said it wasn’t necessary. Not really sure why she’s letting him come.” It was clear from Brenda’s expression that she wanted to ask a bunch of questions about the visit, but she didn’t want to upset me. “You can ask, you know, whatever it is you want to ask. I’m not gonna get mad or anything.”

She shook her head. “No. It’s best I don’t, Chris. You should have a good visit with him. I’m sure he’s missed you.”

“Yeah, I miss him too, sometimes,” I reluctantly admitted. “Sometimes I miss the pack. Most of the time I wish I’d never met any of them. It would make things easier, now.”

She reached for my hand. “The only thing you can do now is move forward Chris. No use regretting what might have been. You have your center now, right? You can move forward.”

“No, I can’t move forward,” I told her. “Not until I’ve faced my past. I’m trying, Brenda, I’m trying very hard to be my own center, but there are things I need to resolve before that can really happen. I need to face things. I need to face Scott, to find out how I feel about him now that I’m mostly sane.”

“I understand,” she said softly, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Not really,” I told her. “But if I completely fall apart afterwards, I expect you to knock me upside the head and give me a good pep talk, all right?”

She laughed. “You got it. Enjoy the visit.”

“We’ll see what happens,” I said carefully. “I’ll be sure to call you when the visit is over.”

“How long is he staying in town?”

“Just the one night, really,” I told her. “He’ll be leaving just after sundown on Thursday. I’m not sure what will happen after that. He wants me to visit Detroit, but I don’t think I can face going back there.”

“Just be honest about what you want,” she told me. “He will have to honor your wishes.”

“I will,” I said with a wry smile, “as soon as I figure out what the hell I want.”

“You have all the time you need,” she replied. “Use it to your best advantage.”

“Yeah, I know, and I don’t plan on making any decisions until I really know what it is I want to do.” The problem really was figuring out what I wanted to do. “What do you think about me moving back to Las Vegas?”

“Might be a good idea,” she said after a moment’s thought. “I know there are lots of memories here that might make you uncomfortable. And Antonio would love it if one of us were there.”

“Yeah, he would,” I replied with a smile. “I’m still thinking on it, keeping my options open.”

And that was the trick of it, really, keeping my options open until I could decide. I didn’t want to make the kind of choices I’d made when I was in Detroit, choices that screwed my life to hell before I’d realized exactly what I was throwing away.

The night Scott flew into Salem I made sure I was at Michael’s house long before he was due to show up. The ghoul Rafe had been eyeing at the New Year's Eve party turned out to be Michael’s ghoul, Nick Kennedy, who welcomed Frasier and me to the house, showing us into the plush living room that had an awesome view of the harbor. After settling me in, both men left me to my thoughts.

It was hard, very hard, to settle my nerves as I waited for Scott to arrive. I’d made a conscious choice to not dress up too much, settling for jeans and a blouse that was only a bit nicer than those I’d worn during my stay with the Gangrel in Detroit.

I was looking forward to Scott’s visit, but I had my doubts about what would happen when we were alone together. I couldn’t help but wonder if the love I’d felt for him before my memory returned was strong enough to overcome my feelings for Jason. Sometimes I hoped that it would be, that I’d be able to put Jason behind me and move on with someone who had always been there for me, but in my heart, I knew that Jason would forever be my one true love. Even when I couldn’t remember loving him, I’d been inescapably drawn to him.

Scott had accepted me completely when I didn’t know who I was and was still willing to accept me now that my memories had returned. And yet I knew that if I wanted to have any hope of getting Jason back, I needed to avoid Scott altogether. The question was whether I wanted to do what was necessary to get Jason back.

It had been hard for me, long before my memory had returned, to know that Jason hadn’t loved me enough to stay in Detroit and fight for me. Now that I remembered everything we’d shared, all the obstacles we’d overcome to be together, it was hard to believe that he’d just turned and walked away. Not that it wasn’t my fault he’d left, I was fully aware that it was my fault, that my infidelity had been too much for him.

If it had been Jason who’d lost his memory, Jason with another woman, I knew that I would have stayed and fought for him. I never would have walked away, not ever. I’d walked through hell to find him when Chaos had captured him, lived through hell while he’d been trying to adjust to his new life as a vampire. But when I hadn’t been myself, he’d just walked away, had run back to Graves like he’d done every time something hurt too much for him to handle.

At one time I’d hated Graves for that, for protecting Jason when I wanted to be the one to protect him. Now, with the full weight of my memories, I could see that Graves had taken care of Jason in ways I would never have been able to do. Time and events had proven that Graves had always done the right thing for Jason, and all I’d done was break his heart.

My thoughts were interrupted when the doorbell rang. I stood and began to pace restlessly while I waited for Frasier to show Scott into the room. All too soon Scott was standing in front of me and Frasier was closing the door behind him, leaving us alone.

Scott’s eyes ran over my body, almost as if checking me for wounds. “You look good,” he told me.

“Thanks.” I was more than a little uncomfortable with his gaze, unsure as to what to say or do. “So do you.”

He shrugged but didn’t answer.

I couldn’t stop from looking him over or noticing the hard strength of his chest under a tight but unfamiliar t-shirt. He was as tall as I remembered, his eyes that same vivid green, his hair long and loose about his shoulders. Looking at him now I could see why I’d been attracted to him the first time we’d met. Though his hair was dark, it was nearly as long as Luke’s, and something about his face reminded me of Jason.

Wishing this could be easier I reached out and took his hand to lead him toward the seating area. “Let’s sit down, okay?”

He went without argument and sat on the couch. “Nice place.”

“Yeah.” I sat down beside him. “Michael’s ghoul lives here. I’m still at the Bed and Breakfast, haven’t made up my mind what I’m gonna do long term, yet.”

“You could come back to Detroit,” he offered, looking down at our still joined hands.

I’d known this was coming, had wondered what I would say. Sitting here next to Scott I knew that no matter how much I’d once loved him, I would never be able to have the relationship I’d once had with him, never be able to look past the fact that I’d betrayed Jason to be with him.

“I wish I could,” I said softly. “I wish I could sit in the pub with the pack around us and hold your hand, could look around me and know that I belong.” I had to blink tears from my eyes. “But I don’t belong there, Scott.”

“You belong, Christina,” he said, tightening his hold on my hand. “You belong with me.”

“Not now, not anymore. I remember too much,” I said sadly, reaching up to cup the side of his face. I loved the feel of his skin, the silkiness of his hair, and I knew that this was probably the last time I’d ever feel it. “I did love you, Scott. A part of me still loves you.”

His eyes searched my face. “Jason?”

A tear trickled down my cheek. “Yeah.”

He gently wiped away my tear with his thumb.

“I didn’t want this,” I told him softly, honestly. “I was happy in Detroit, with you, but now I just—” His beautiful eyes were full of pain, but I knew that he deserved the truth from me, not empty platitudes. I looked away, unable to meet his gaze when I said what I needed to say. “Just sitting here with you, I feel like I’m cheating on him. I didn’t want this.”

He pulled his hand away as if I’d burned him, cursing under his breath. “I never meant for you to feel like that.”

I couldn’t stop the tears that spilled down my cheeks. “I am so sorry, Scott,” I whispered. “I missed you so much; I just wanted to see you. I hoped—” There had been hopes, vague hopes that I’d see Scott and his presence would drive away the memories of Jason, the longing I felt for the man I had betrayed. “I’m not sure what I hoped for, but this isn’t it.”

He was silent for a long moment before saying, “This is fucked up.”

I felt as bitter as he sounded. “I didn’t want this, I didn’t want to hurt you,” I said honestly. “There’s no use whining about wishing things could be different, but I do wish they were different.”

For a moment I thought he would put his arm around me, but then he got to his feet. “I should go.”

I stood up too, forcing myself not to reach for him. In some corner of my heart I did love Scott, but those feelings didn’t hold a candle to what I felt for Jason. “I am sorry, Scott.” Sorry for making him come all this way, sorry for getting my memory back, sorry that I didn’t love him enough.

He looked uncomfortable and totally out of his element, as if I’d taken the wind out of his sails. In a way, I suppose I had. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “No. I get it,” he said with a sad smile that made him look completely miserable. “We didn’t stand a chance.” He started for the door. “Good luck.”

I wanted to say something, to apologize again, or call him back, or god, anything besides just watch him walk out the door, but I knew that nothing I said would change things, nothing could make this better or easier or take away his pain. Or my pain, for that matter. The best thing I could do was to let him go, watch him walk out of my life with tears streaming down my face, knowing that I’d never see him again and wishing things had turned out differently.

After a long time, I went to the bathroom and washed the blood tinted tears from my face. Frasier was waiting beside the door when I came out, his face carefully neutral. He drove me back to the Bed and Breakfast and tucked me into bed.

I could feel the familiar madness pushing at the edges of my mind. I’d fucked up everything in my life, lost my husband, lost Scott, lost any chance I ever had at happiness and I knew it was all my fault. A part of me wanted to react the way I had in Detroit just before we’d left, to destroy everything in the room the way I’d destroyed my life, but I held onto my self control by my fingernails.

Lying there in the temporary home Frasier and I had created, I still wasn’t sure I’d ever know what home was. Home wasn’t Salem, though, I knew that much. There were too many memories of him here, haunting me at every turn of the road.

I had to find a way to get my husband back, I just had to.


	13. Planning for the Future

_And I'm ready to suffer_  
_And I'm ready to hope_  
_ Florence + The Machine – Shake it Out_

WEEKS PASSED AND I continued to regain my equilibrium. It wasn’t long before my crazy spells became few and far between. I worked hard at the chantry to prove I was sane once more, while at the same time trying to figure out how to get my life back.

Lena wrote to thank me for the presents I’d sent Christopher and we began the slow process of rebuilding our friendship. Talking to Estrea seemed easier, except when we talked about Jason.

“I haven’t seen him much,” she told me during one of our weekly phone calls. “He stays to himself mostly, but I’ve heard he’s living at Talon’s.”

“Of course, he is,” I murmured, trying to keep the emotion from my voice. Jason always ran to Graves when things got hard.

“Talon takes care of him,” she said softly. “I know you don’t like the guy, but it’s my understanding that if Talon wasn’t keeping an eye on Jason, no one would be able to. He’s in a bad way, Christina.”

“I know Graves is his friend,” I said with a sigh. I really wanted to hate him for keeping me from Jason yet again, but I knew that Graves wasn’t to blame for my actions. “I know he has Jason’s best interests at heart.”

“He doesn’t talk to very many people,” she told me. “Michelle Rourke, the new Sheriff, lets him use a stretch of beach she has up in Santa Monica. And Luke tells me he sees Jason from time to time at Alon’s shop.”

I closed my eyes and covered them with my hand. I could remember the love I’d once felt for Luke, tainted as it had been with the partial Blood Bond. Even then my love for Jason had interfered when I’d tried to be happy with someone else. Luke had realized how I’d felt, and not long after the clan had learned of the Blood Bond. I’d left Vegas without so much as a goodbye and hadn’t seen or talked to him since.

“H-how is Luke doing?” I asked softly.

“He’s got his feet back under him,” she told me, her voice carefully neutral. Luke and Estrea had been friends long before I’d met either of them, and she hadn’t been happy about how things had ended, though she’d understood my need to break the Blood Bond. “He has a childe now, stays pretty busy doing things for Talon. I think he’s happy, for the most part.”

“Good,” I said with a sigh. “I worried about him, you know, when I could remember him. I just didn’t think it would have been a good idea to call him, what with Jason and the clan.”

“You’re probably right,” she agreed. “Do-do you want me to get a message to him?”

I thought about that for a long moment. Luke had been one of my best friends, my lover. He’d saved my life more than once, and my sanity many times over. While it would have been nice to think that we could be friends again, I knew that would never happen.

“Tell him….” I began hesitantly but had to stop and take a breath. “Just tell him that I’m sorry about the way things went down, about leaving Vegas the way I did. I never wanted to hurt him.”

“Yeah,” she said softly, “I’ll tell him.”

“Thanks,” I told her. “I have another favor, but I really hate to ask.”

“What is it?”

“I need to see Jason,” I replied softly. “Graves would never take a call from me. Do you, could you ask him for me?”

Her hesitation spoke volumes. “I don’t know, Chris.”

“No, I know it’s a lot to ask,” I said sadly. “I understand. I’ll figure something out.”

“Chris, you can’t come to LA without permission,” she said sternly.

“I know,” I told her. I wanted to see Jason, but I wasn’t sure I could risk sneaking in. Kindred law stated that every vampire entering a city had to have permission from the prince. Unauthorized Kindred were routinely destroyed, no questions asked.

“He’ll kill you,” she whispered.

“Only if he catches me,” I replied wryly.

“This is Talon Graves we’re talking about,” she pointed out. “He knows everything that goes on in his city. Do you really think you can see Jason and not have him find out about it?”

“I can’t just sit here and do nothing,” I protested. “Jason is not going to come to me, Estrea, and this isn’t something I can handle with a phone call.”

“Christina,” she said sadly. “All right. I’ll talk to Talon, see what I can do. It might take me a couple of days to get him alone. Promise me you won’t come out here before I can ask for you.”

“All right,” I reluctantly agreed. “Thanks, Estrea.”

Three weeks later I stood on an ocean side dock, looking up at the _Aurora_, a yacht that would carry Frasier and me from San Francisco south to the beach in Santa Monica where Estrea had guaranteed that I would find Jason before sunrise two days from now.

Coming to the West Coast was a risk, a big one. Graves had been very clear when he’d told Estrea that I was not to come to his city. As close as I planned to come to the limits of his territory, there was every chance that he’d call a Blood Hunt down on me. If he did, there was no place on earth I would be safe from his vengeance. I could only hope that Jason would be receptive enough to my presence to step in, and that Graves still valued Jason’s opinion enough to listen to his friend.

“You sure this is a good idea?” Estrea asked from beside me. “Rumor has it that Jason was so upset when he heard about the divorce that he almost took off Talon’s leg.”

“I’m out of good ideas, my friend,” I said with a sad smile. “I’m down to desperation.”

“We’ll both be desperate if Talon catches wind of this,” she replied solemnly. “Maybe you should wait until he calms down and ask again.”

I knew I wasn’t the only one taking a risk here. Estrea had confessed that Graves had come unhinged when she’d asked his permission for me to visit the city, only sparing her because he knew how close we were. If Graves found out that Estrea had chartered the boat to take me south, let alone helped me fly into California, she could be up for a Blood Hunt of her own.

“It’s already been too long, Estrea.” Over a year since I’d woken in Detroit with no memory of the man I loved, half a year since the divorce was final, months now since I’d gotten my memories back. “I have to do this now, or I’ll never have the courage to go to him.”

“Okay,” she said soothingly. “Caleb will sail down and anchor off the Channel Islands until a couple of hours before sundown. He’ll have the boat lying off the beach by the time you wake up. Make sure you stay in the water; you don’t want to give Talon a reason to go off.”

As if my presence in California wouldn’t be enough for him to blow a gasket. “You’re sure Jason goes there every night?” I asked. This would be a wasted trip if I couldn’t see him, talk to him.

“I’m sure,” she assured me. “He visits that beach every night when his duties are over.”

I held on to her promise as I boarded the yacht, as I watched her disappear into the darkness, as the boat sailed us out of the harbor and turned south. Frasier stood with me at the rail for a while, enjoying the ocean breezes and the salt spray but not intruding on my silence. When the sky above the mountains to the east was pink with sunrise, I went below decks and fell into bed, thankful for the obliteration morning brought to me.

Caleb was good at his job. When I woke after sunset, we were in fact anchored off a secluded private beach just north of Santa Monica.

As much as I looked forward to seeing Jason again, I dreaded it too. I knew I’d been wrong to sleep with Scott, all those months ago, and the fact that I hadn’t remembered Jason didn’t exonerate the sin. I’d been told that I was married but at the time I’d been more concerned about separating myself from my husband than about staying true to him. Jason had every right to hate me for that, and for not breaking off my relationship with Scott even after I remembered something of my marriage, no matter how little that was.

I wondered if Jason would stick around long enough to listen to me or if he’d simply walk away again. I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d continue to hide behind Graves the way he had every time we’d had problems. As much as I loved Jason, I couldn’t be the only one to fight for our relationship.

With an effort I forced myself to focus on where I was now. It was still hard sometimes, not to lose myself in memories of the past, but it was easier than it had been a month ago, even a week ago.

Quickly I dressed in jeans and a tank top, not bothering with socks or shoes that would only get in the way once I was in the water. I went out on deck and stood at the rail, staring at the shore and praying that Jason would at least listen to what I had to say.


	14. Praying for Forgiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The last time you saw me_   
_Is still burned in the back of your mind_   
_You gave me roses, and I left them there to die _   
_ Taylor Swift – Back to December_

AS IT TURNED out, I had hours to pull myself together, fall apart, and pull myself together again. Frasier sat with me most of the time, a soothing presence at my side. Though I hated myself for it, I found myself thinking that I was glad it had been Petor who’d died the night I’d woke from my enchanted sleep. Frasier had been with me longer, had been my right hand when I needed someone to lean on from the first moment he’d drank my blood.

It wasn’t until nearly three in the morning that I heard a motorcycle coming down the long road that hugged the shore. With one last look at Frasier, I slid into the shoulder deep water and took a few steps toward the land. The water smelled salty and the waves rocked me gently as I made my way to shallower water. It took an effort to remember Estrea’s words about not setting foot on the beach, but somehow, I managed.

I watched as the lone headlight slowed and moved to the side of the road, stopping with that single light pointed toward the water. Thankfully it wasn’t pointed toward the yacht that was even now edging away from the shore. I knew that if Jason saw me from such a distance he would never come near the water.

The tall figure of a man blocked the light for a moment as he began to walk toward the sea. I thought it was Jason, hoped that it was him, but with the distance and the way the light was shinning I couldn’t be sure. I walked toward the beach, eager to see if it really was the man I’d come for. The waves were gentle, moving from my thighs to my knees but never strong enough to sweep me off my feet.

My attention was drawn away by the sound of a car coming down the highway. With a sinking heart I watched as a small roadster pulled off the road and parked next to the motorcycle, a horn ringing out though the otherwise quiet night.

The man had made it halfway down the beach, and now he turned to watch a woman get out of the car. In the additional light from the roadster’s head lights I could see that he was wearing a dark sleeveless shirt and dark pants with something draped over his left shoulder. He had the height and build of Jason, but there were tattoos covering his bare arms. It looked like the sides of his head were shaved, leaving hair only along the top and back that was formed into a Mohawk.

The woman grabbed something from her back seat and closed the door, cutting off the light that had shown on her face. I hadn’t recognized her, and I still couldn’t be sure the man was Jason, so I stood in the water, watching and listening to the pair talk.

“You just getting here?” she asked as she walked toward him.

He shrugged. “Yeah, ran into a little trouble over by the pier.”

The moment I heard his voice, I knew that the man was Jason, despite the changes in his appearance. I wanted to cry at how dead his voice sounded.

“Group of Sabbat who thought they could get in under the radar jumped me,” he continued.

She stopped close to him and reached up to touch his chin, lifting his face to the moonlight. “I can see that,” she said, giving him a once over, her eyes lingering on something I couldn’t see. “Looks nasty. Why didn’t you heal that?”

He shrugged again. “Didn’t see a point.”

She crossed her arms over her chest as if she had a right to chastise him. “You know, one day you’re going to have to start giving a shit about something,” she told him, her voice full of concern.

My blood froze at his reply.

“No, I don’t.”

“What if you went to Europe for a while?” she suggested almost pleadingly. “I know Graves mentioned something about you going there for him.”

“Not gonna happen,” he replied in a voice as hard as stone. Without another word he turned and started walking toward the water again.

“Jason, wait!”

I’d taken a couple of steps closer to shore when he’d turned but stopped when she called after him. He was close enough that I could make out his face now, see the flash of white in his eyes as he rolled them upward.

“I am not having this conversation again,” he said in a hard voice.

She reached his side and put her hand on his shoulder. “I know you don’t want to, but Jason, come on, you kno—”

He turned to face her, shrugging off her hand. “Don’t!” he barked harshly, sounding very different from the man I’d once known.

I could see her better now that I was only ten feet from shore, standing in water that lapped from my ankles to my knees with every wave. She was shapely beneath the lines of her loose jeans and her dark blouse and the face she turned up to look at him was beautiful.

“Don’t?” she demanded, pushing him back with both hands on his chest. “What? Don’t give a shit about you?”

Although I didn’t like the way she’d manhandled him, her actions seemed to take a bit of the edge from Jason’s face. I hated that her words had the power to soothe him.

“Come on, Michelle,” he said in a low voice. “Let’s not do this again.”

Michelle sighed heavily and ran her free hand through her dark blond hair, defeat in every line of her face. “Fine.”

Jason pulled the towel from his shoulder with one hand and reached for his belt buckle with the other as he turned away from her. “You coming?” he asked, hitching his head toward the shore without looking at the water.

She smiled a little, shaking her head at him ruefully. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

I knew that I should turn and go back to the boat; that I should walk out of Jason’s life and let him rebuild it without me. Michelle clearly wanted to take care of him, and he’d be better off without a woman who could hurt him so much that he ended up a shadow of the man he’d once been.

And yet I couldn’t bring myself to leave him with this woman who so obviously loved him, especially when she was reaching to take off her shirt.

“Jason,” I called, my voice low yet still loud enough for him to hear me over the soft sound of the waves.

His eyes came up and he froze when he saw me standing in the water. Recognition, disbelief and longing flashed across his face, along with many more emotions I couldn’t read in the dim light. Then his face was a hard mask, his eyes dead and his lips a thin line. His hand held the towel in a tightly clenched fist.

Michelle looked up as well, tensing as she saw me in the water. “Who the hell are you and what are you doing here?” she growled, letting her body fall into a defensive position.

I didn’t want to answer her, wouldn’t have if it wasn’t clear how much she cared about Jason. At last I spoke, still looking at the man I’d come to talk to. “Christina… Strong.” I’d hesitated at the last name, but the truth was that I had no claim on the name Kline, not anymore. “I’m here to apologize,” I said to Jason.

Michelle made a noise that sounded very much like a hissing cat. The sound made Jason blink and glance in her direction before putting a restraining hand on her arm.

“You must want to die,” Michelle replied coldly, obviously not letting Jason’s attempt to calm her have any effect.

I blinked slowly, taking my eyes from Jason just long enough to glance at her. There had been moments when I’d thought that final death would be much easier to deal with then this head full of memories and heart full of regrets. I’d spent many early mornings in the garden at the Bed and Breakfast watching the sky lighten in the east until Frasier came to walk me back inside and tuck me into bed.

“At times,” I admitted after a moment. Turning back to Jason, I said. “Can we talk?”

Jason stared at me almost as if he didn’t believe I was really there, or perhaps he couldn’t believe I had the nerve to try and talk to him after all that had happened between us, after all I’d put him through.

Michelle pulled her arm away from him and opened her mouth to speak, but his next words stopped her, his voice rough and low.

“Michelle, no.”

She turned to look up at him. “She shouldn’t be here,” she insisted hotly. “I know she hasn’t presented herself. Talon would have told me.”

That statement told me that this woman was the Sheriff that Estrea had warned me to watch out for. I couldn’t have picked a worse person to run into, unless perhaps it was Talon Graves himself. If Graves called a Blood Hunt, Michelle would be the first to hunt me down.

Jason met her eyes with a blank and unreadable look. “I know,” he said in a low voice, “but she needs to talk.”

I didn’t like the way he’d said that, and it was clear by the daggers in her eyes when she glared at me that Michelle didn’t like it either. With a wave of my hand I gestured at the distance between where I stood and the sandy shore.

“Technically, I’m not in LA.” It was hard to keep my voice even, to speak with respect when I wanted nothing more than to disregard Graves’ boundaries and come up on that beach to stand next to the man I loved. “I haven’t set foot in LA, and I don’t plan to without the prince’s permission.”

She ignored Jason’s meaningful look and only relented when he spoke in a whisper.

“Michelle, please.”

He sounded so vulnerable, so lost. I hated that my stupidity had drove him to this. I hated too that Michelle and I seemed to share the same thoughts. She flashed me a warning look before turning and stomping up the beach toward her car.

Jason turned back to me and for the long minutes it took for Michelle to reach her car we just looked at each other. I heard the car door open and close, but when the engine didn’t start it was clear that she wasn’t going to leave us alone. It was too much to hope that she wasn’t calling Graves, but there was nothing I could do about that.

Suddenly I wasn’t sure what to say. My eyes ran over Jason’s spiked hair, the cut above his eye, the tattoos covering his arms, the clothing that was so much different than what I remembered him wearing. This Jason wasn’t the same man I’d driven away from me and I wasn’t sure what I could say to this stranger. There was nothing to it but to take a breath and begin.

“I-I know there is nothing I can do to make things right, Jason,” I said in a low voice. “I’ve done a lot of things in the last year and a half that I regret more than I can ever say. I hurt a lot of people, and you most of all. I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”

For a long moment I thought he’d just stand there, staring at me with an unreadable expression on his face, but finally he tossed the towel back over his shoulder, crossed his arms and said, “Not sure what I’m supposed to say to that.”

“You’re not ‘supposed’ to say anything,” I replied softly, trying not to let my frustration show in my voice. “I just—I wanted—I need to tell you that I know now I shouldn’t have pushed you away, that I was wrong for—” I broke off before I could mention Scott’s name. It was better to avoid that subject altogether.

“I’m sorry for not believing you, and for the divorce,” I continued, trying not to wince at the flash of pain in his eyes before he looked away, “and for everything and I’m sorry, Jason, I’m so, so sorry.” It was an effort not to break down and cry, but I wouldn’t put that on him, I’d caused him enough pain without forcing him to deal with mine. “If I could take back every moment to when we were together in Salem I would. I hate myself for hurting you.”

“Seems that’s what we’re all about, doesn’t it?” he asked, looking out over the water toward the boat still waiting behind me. “Hurting each other.”

“No, Jason,” I protested softly, letting an incoming wave take me taking a half step toward the beach. “It was good between us, really good.” I couldn’t stop my voice from turning bitter. “Before I fucked it all to hell.”

He shook his head ruefully. “I heard you got your memories back,” he said quietly, taking a brief glance at my face. “Is he really dead?”

“Yes,” I said in a hard voice. “I shot him through the heart. He was trying to hurt Petor.” My voice wavered on the name, a reaction I couldn’t control. “I killed him too, when I woke up. It was... hard, for a while.”

He nodded but didn’t answer for a long moment. “And now?” he finally asked.

“Now,” I said sadly, “I have more sane nights than not, I guess, so in that things are getting better.” I let my eyes roam over him again, once more taking in all the differences from the man I’d married. “I miss you.”

He closed his eyes and turned his face away if I’d struck him a physical blow. “Don’t say that,” he whispered, letting his arms fall to wrap around his middle as if to protect himself.

I nearly took a step toward him, but I was so close to the beach already, only two or three strides from the shore. The pause between waves breaking nearly put me on the beach itself and I knew I was pushing the ‘not in LA’ statement I’d made to the fullest extent, especially with the Sheriff sitting not far away, watching my every move.

“Jason, I will never be able to make up for what I did in Detroit,” I said earnestly, my voice shaking ever so slightly when he turned his back to me. “I can’t ask you to forgive me, Christ, I can’t even begin to forgive myself. What I did was wrong, and the fact that I had no idea what I was throwing away in no way excuses my behavior.” I took a deep breath and tried to steady my voice. “I don’t want to hurt you anymore Jason, but I have to say this. I want us to try again.”

He ran a hand across the side of his shaved head and turned back to face me. Even his movements were different than what I remembered, stiffer, jerky, almost shrunken, as if he had pulled into himself when I’d driven him away.

At last he met my eyes and I could see that his features were smooth, his eyes dull. He cleared his voice and said just one word. “Why?”

There could be only one reason for risking my life to come to him like this. “I love you.”

“You love me?” he scoffed; his face still unreadable but his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Is that what you call it?”

“It’s all I have,” I told him simply. I couldn’t blame him for his bitterness, even hatred if it came to that. I was damn bitter too and I hated myself plenty enough for the both of us. “I will understand if it’s not enough for you, after all that’s happened. If you tell me to go, I’ll go, and I won’t come back, but I will always love you.”

“What about Scott?” he asked in a voice carefully devoid of emotion.

I took a breath and hoped my voice would be steady. “I left him in Detroit, when my memory came back. I’m sure you know I went to Salem with Brenda while I... while my mind settled. Now that it has, I came here, Jason, to you, not to Detroit.”

He slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “And I’m still trying to figure out why,” he told me, his voice showing a bit of his frustration. “Our marriage is over, Christina. You saw to that. I know I’ve made mistakes in the past but—” He stopped for a moment and when he continued, what little emotion had been in his voice was gone. “How do we pick up the pieces?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted sadly. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure I’d even get this far, between Graves and what Brenda told me. I just know that I’m willing to try, Jason.”

A strong wave drove the water up on the beach to lap at his boots, but he paid it no attention. “What did Brenda say?”

I looked away from him for the first time since Michelle had left us. “That you would never forgive me,” I said, fighting to keep my voice level, “that I had hurt you too badly, and it was no use trying to apologize or—” a tear burned a cold path down my cheek but I made no move to wipe it away, not even when more tears followed, “—or anything because you didn’t care anymore.”

“And you came anyway?”

I looked back at him, not trying to hide the tears on my on my face. “I had to try.”

In the dim moonlight I could see a small part of the Jason I’d once known in his eyes. He was looking at me in almost the same way that he had when he’d been trying to get me to forgive him for leaving. Only his eyes showed any emotion, the rest of him was still as stiff and unmoving as before. I tried to tell myself that the look in his eyes was something to be hopeful about. I was heartened by that look, but his next words nearly ripped my heart from my chest.

“You shouldn’t have.” He sounded tired, as if the effort to talk to me was getting to be too much.

“I had to come, Jason, I had to try.” I took a deep breath and tried to still my shaking hands by pressing them against my thighs. “I love you, but I don’t want to hurt you anymore. If you tell me to go, I’ll go, and I won’t come back.”

An internal struggle was clear in his eyes as he looked at me, as if he wasn’t sure if he wanted me to stay or to go. “What about Scott?”

I shook my head. “That’s over. I came _here,_ Jason,” I repeated softly, “to you.”

He sighed softly. “I’m not sure what you want me to say, Chris. A lot of time has passed, but you filed for divorce, not me. You were the one that ran off to help that asshole in the first place, not me. You got together with Scott, knowing that we were married. Granted you didn’t have any memories, but you knew.

“So, say I say yes, that I still love you and want us to get back together,” he continued, taking a few steps closer until each wave was lapping at the toes of his boots. “What if something like that happens again? I wouldn’t be able to cope with loosing you again. Hell, some would say I’m doing a shitty job of it now.”

I wanted to lie, to promise that I would stay with him forever, but I knew better. “I’d like to be able to swear that nothing will happen to come between us again, but I can’t,” I said sadly, shaking my head. “Shit tends to happen to us, doesn’t it? I’m not coping very well with losing you either, but I am willing to try.”

The low sound of an engine carried across the water and I cursed silently. It was nice to think the vehicle was just someone driving north along the coast, but deep down I knew that Michelle had called Graves and trouble was on its way.

“Chris,” he said in such a low voice I barely heard him. Before he could say anything else, he turned to look toward the road, and I knew that he’d heard the engine as well. “Shit,” he muttered, looking back at me. “You should leave.”

His words confirmed that the engine I heard was that of Graves’ motorcycle. I knew that Jason was right, that I should go before Graves caught me, but I couldn’t leave without some sort of resolution.

“I know this has been hard on you, but it’s been hard on me too, and I can’t leave without knowing if we have a chance to work things out. I need an answer, Jason,” I pleaded softly.

“What, you show up here and dump this on me and expect me to just have an answer right this second?” he asked, his tone almost challenging, a frown clear on his face. “That’s not how this is going to work Christina. My feelings don’t switch on and off that quickly.”

Behind him I saw the moving light from a motorcycle headlight come to a stop next to Michelle’s car. We had only moments before Graves joined us, but I couldn’t leave just yet.

“I’m not asking you to marry me tomorrow, Jas,” I said urgently, “I’m just asking if there’s a chance for us. If there isn’t, if you don’t think it’s possible for us to eventually work things out, just tell me. I’ll go, and I’ll never bother you again, but I have to know.”

“I... I don’t know,” he whispered so softly I could barely hear him over the sounds of the surf all around us. “I’ve been doing nothing but trying to forget you—”

His words were interrupted by the clear sound of Graves’ approach across the sand.

“I need some time to think about this,” Jason told me as Graves came closer.

“I understand,” I said sadly.

I wanted to press for a definitive answer, but I knew I didn’t have the right. I hoped Jason thought quickly but I wouldn’t be able to wait for his decision. Graves would be on us in a moment and I knew his reaction to my presence wouldn’t be good. Technically I wasn’t in his territory, but he might not take the scant five feet that separated me from shore as being outside of his city.

I wiped at the tears on my face, unwilling to let Graves see the signs of my heartbreak. I put my hands in my pockets, both to hide the blood on my fingers and to keep them from forming into fists of frustration.

“Of all the manipulative—” Graves began darkly, stopping only when Jason turned and laid a restraining hand on his shoulder.

“Talon, stop,” he said quietly, which made Graves glance down at him, trying to gage his emotions. “It’s okay. Let me handle this.”

Graves turned angry eyes back to me. “A boat offshore doesn’t mean I can’t call a Blood Hunt for not presenting yourself.”

At least he wasn’t killing me outright. “It was worth the risk,” I said honestly, not taking my eyes from the man I still loved desperately enough to risk final death for.

Leaving his hand on Grave’s shoulder, Jason looked over his shoulder at me. “You should go now. I will call you.”

I knew from the way Graves was glaring at me that he didn’t want to let me go without some form of punishment. I didn’t much want to leave either, despite the threat Graves presented to my health, but I’d pushed the situation about as far as I could have and still expect to walk away with my head intact.

“I’ll wait, Jason,” I promised him softly, “forever, if I have to.” Looking at Graves at last, I did my best to nod politely as I began backing toward the boat. From the look on Graves’ face I needed to be gone as quickly as possible. “Graves.”

Jason turned to Graves and pushed at the other man’s shoulder to try and get him away from the water. Graves didn’t move much, keeping his angry eyes fastened on me as I continued to back away. Once the water hit my chest, I turned and dove into an incoming wave, swimming underwater toward where the boat was waiting, trusting Frasier to watch my back in case Graves changed his mind about letting me go


	15. Decisions Made

_There will be no white flag above my door_  
I’m in love and always will be  
Dido - White Flag

It wasn’t easy, heading back to Salem. A part of me wanted to stay on in California to wait for Jason’s answer, but I knew that was a bad idea. I’d already compromised Estrea’s safety by talking her into helping me. I wasn’t about to take the chance that Graves was going to send out a Blood Hunt while I was staying with her.

Once we got back to San Francisco, Estrea drove Frasier and me to the airport. She listened to what had happened and while I could tell that like me, she had hoped for a better outcome, she wasn’t really surprised by Jason’s reaction.

The plane took off as the sun went up and had landed in Salem long before I woke. After dropping off our luggage at the Bed and Breakfast, Frasier and I headed for the chantry to check in with Elvira and spend some time with my sister.

“How did things go?” Brenda asked when I joined her in the library.

“It was good to see Estrea after all this time.” I told her. “Graves is pissed, of course, and Jason, well, Jason isn’t sure.”

She nodded, looking thoughtful. After a moment, she said, “I really hope it all works out.”

“Me too,” I agreed.

Four nights after I’d returned to Salem there was a message from Jason waiting on my phone when I woke. It had come in long after the sun had rose on the East Coast, which would have made it close to dawn in LA.

“Hey Chris, it’s me.” Jason’s voice sounded a bit tinny on the recording, but I loved hearing it just the same. “Just got in. Been thinking about everything you said the other night.” From the way he kept pausing, I knew he was uncomfortable calling me. “I’m not sure if we can pick up the pieces but I’m willing to talk about it. Give me a call. I have things to do when I rise but I can call you back when I’m done.”

It wasn’t the rousing agreement I’d hoped for, but I’d take what I could get. I called him back right away and left a message for him, telling him to call me whenever he had time.

It was close to four before my phone rang. I made sure I was alone, took a deep breath for courage, and answered.

“Chris?” he said hesitantly.

“Jason,” I breathed, closing my eyes at the sound of his voice.

“Yeah... ho-how are you?”

“I-I just take it one night at a time,” I said honestly. “You?”

He let out a long breath. “Okay.”

“It’s good to hear your voice.”

“You, too,” he said, but he sounded unsure. He cleared his throat before adding. “So, you back in Salem, then?”

“Yeah,” I told him. “I thought it best to leave the West Coast, given Graves’ reaction.”

“Yeah. Look, he was just... you know....”

“I know,” I said soothingly. “He said I couldn’t come, and I did anyway, give or take a couple of yards.” Going to LA had been a stupid move could well have cost me my life. “It was worth the risk, though.”

“He’s my friend,” he said simply.

“He is a good friend to you,” I agreed. As much as I’d once hated the man, I knew that much was true.

“Yeah.” He sighed and changed the subject. “So, what’s going on in Salem?”

“Well, I’m just starting to get back into the swing of things, with the clan,” I told him. “Alden wants me to take it slow, in case there’s any residual... effects. I feel alright, mostly, but sometimes things are a little overwhelming.”

“So... do you remember everything now?” he asked hesitantly.

“Yeah, everything,” I said softly. “Even from my mortal life.”

“Your mortal life?” he asked, sounding concerned. “Really?”

“It’s all here, inside my head, back in an instant,” I told him. “Took me a while to get things straight, sometimes I still feel a bit loopy.”

“Anything there you wish hadn’t come back?” He seemed a little more at ease now, more comfortable talking to me.

“Plenty,” I said wryly. “It was actually a blessing that I hadn’t remembered my life before my embrace. I-I really wish I could go back, you know. But I can’t change things, I just have to try and make amends.”

“We all make mistakes in our lives,” he said calmly, with no accusations in his tone. “The important thing is that we learn from them and don’t make the same mistakes twice.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s true.” I hesitated a moment before asking, “Was Graves very angry after I left?”

“Don’t worry about him,” he told me. “Wasn’t the first time we’ve fought, probably won’t be the last.”

“So, I shouldn’t be expecting Assamites to show up due to my audacity?”

“He knows better than that.”

He sounded certain. I wished I could be.

“How are you?” I asked after a moment.

“I’m good.” He said it so quickly I was willing to bet it was a rote response. “Busy.”

“Sometimes busy is good.” I couldn’t help the wistful tone of my voice. I’d had way too much time to think over the last few months.

“Yeah.”

Silence burned on the line, a silence I wasn’t sure how to break. I didn’t want to push him for anything he wasn’t ready to give, but I knew if I started talking, it would be hard not to beg him to take me back.

“I should... probably let you... go,” he said awkwardly after a few minutes. “It will be daylight soon there, won’t it?”

“Yeah, I suppose.” I was reluctant to hang up just yet, not when we hadn’t resolved anything. “Will-will I hear from you again?”

He cleared his throat nervously. “Yeah. Yeah, if that’s okay?”

“Yes, I’d like that,” I said, relieved. “It’s good to talk with you again, Jason.”

“You, too.” He paused for just a moment before adding, “It was good to see you.”

“Yes, it was.” I just wished I could see him now, wished that I could erase the time and distance that stretched between us.

After a long moment of silence, he took a quick breath and said, “I think... I think we should take this slow. I have a lot to do here and that makes it hard for me to come see you. Maybe we can talk on the phone? See how things progress?”

“Yes,” I agreed. “I think that will be a good start.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow then?”

“I look forward to it,” I said honestly. “Take care, Jason.”

“You, too,” he whispered.

“I’ll try.”

“Bye.”

I heard dead sound on the line and knew he’d hung up. Putting the phone down, I stared at a point in the wall across from me, thinking about the conversation. Yes, it had been awkward, hesitant, uncertain, but at least it was a beginning. A tentative beginning, I knew, but I’d take what I could get.

Not long after my trip to LA I decided to take Antonio’s advice about moving back to Las Vegas. Salem wasn’t home for me, not without Jason. Moving to Vegas would at least get me closer to the man I wanted to be with.

Jason and I continued to talk on the phone nearly every night, usually close to dawn in Salem. At first the conversations were short and a bit awkward, but it got better as the weeks passed. I tried to be completely honest with him about everything, which wasn’t hard to do considering we both avoided any mention of Detroit.

It was mid March when I decided to return to Vegas, and soon afterward I made sure to let Jason know of my plans. “Antonio has asked me to move back to Vegas,” I told him when he called, “and I-I really think that would be a good idea.”

My words were met with silence for a long moment. Finally, sounding shocked, he said, “Really. Vegas, huh?”

“Yeah, Vegas,” I repeated. “I thought maybe a change would do me good. And maybe, well, it shouldn’t be Brenda’s responsibility to clean up after me every time I crash and burn.”

“Not like she minds,” he said softly.

“I mind,” I murmured.

“You’d be... closer,” he added.

“Yes, that was part it,” I admitted, “to be closer to you.”

“Chris,” he said with something like hope in his voice. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes, I’m sure, Jason,” I said softly. “Look, I know it’s not—we’re not—” I stopped and took a deep breath before starting over. “I know that neither of us is ready to pick up where we left off on our relationship, but I know that someday I want us to be together again. But I don’t want you to think that I’m moving to Vegas just to be closer to you. I’m hoping that Antonio will help me regain... whatever it is that I need to get my head back on straight. I can’t be good for you if I’m not good for me.”

I heard him take a low shaky breath. “I understand,” he answered slowly. “I’ve been thinking that maybe I’m not doing so hot either. I haven’t been for a while.”

“You have some very good friends in LA, Jason,” I said gently. I hated that Graves felt he had to protect Jason from me, and I had disliked Michelle on sight, but I had to admit that they’d been there for him, or at least tried to be. “Maybe you should let them help you.”

“Maybe,” he replied slowly.

“Brenda helped me a lot,” I told him. “If it wasn’t for her, I think I’d still be writing on walls.”

“I’ll see,” he murmured. “So, when will you move then?”

“Michael is coming back in a week or so for the opening of his new club,” I told him. “He’s going to let me hitch a ride to Vegas on his way back.”

“I’m sure Antonio will be glad to have you near him again. Will you be staying in the Chantry?”

“At first, yes, but I hope to find a house not far away, something with a little bit of room for visitors.”

He laughed softly. “A bit?” he teased, almost sounding like his old self.

“A bit,” I agreed, smiling. “I’m hoping that Michael will visit from time to time, and Estrea. There are a lot of people I haven’t seen in a long time that I’d love to see again.” Jason was one of those people, but I didn’t want to mention that. I didn’t want him to think I was pressuring him.

“Lena said you’d been in contact with her,” he said softly.

“Yeah, I think she’s still pretty pissed at me, but we’re working on it.” Just thinking about her made me feel sad.

“She can be pretty protective when she wants,” he replied soothingly. “She’ll come around.”

“I hope so,” I told him. “I’d love to see Christopher.”

“Me, too,” he agreed. “It’s been a long time since we’ve seen her. Maybe she’d come if you asked her to.”

“I’ll give it a try, but we might have better luck if you ask,” I pointed out. Lena had been worried about Jason, but she’d never been pissed at him the way she’d been at me. “It might take a couple of months for me to find a house though, maybe she’ll be a little better disposed toward me by then.” I hoped she would be, anyway.

I didn’t mention to Jason that moving to Vegas would also get me away from Rafe. Brenda’s husband been a bit less antagonistic after his niece was born in January, but that hadn’t done much for his attitude toward me. I knew he blamed me for the loss of his nephew to the Trimuritive and the mortal death that had forced him to become Kindred long before he’d been ready for it.

In a way I suppose he was right to blame me. Malcolm had been my teacher, and over the years I’d prevented every other way he’d tried to gain a child to take his place. And if Malcolm hadn’t needed me to kill him, he’d have had no reason to kill Rafe, kidnap Petor. On the other hand, Rafe’s sister had freely given up her son, and Rafe had agreed to the ritual that had brought him back as Tremere. I sincerely doubted that he’d rather be really dead.

I knew that Brenda spent a lot of time with me and that pulled her away from the time needed to teach her new childe what it meant to be Tremere. It also took time from their marriage, though I really doubted their relationship was that important to Rafe since his embrace had broken his Blood Bond to Brenda.

Surprisingly my sister took the news of my decision to leave Salem well. She offered to help me with all the arrangements, including finding a moving company to take my belongings to Vegas.

When I told her that I was already looking for a house, she cautioned me not to rush into anything. “You’ll have plenty of time once you’re there,” she said firmly. “Just take your time. There’s no need to hurry.”

“Yes, I know.” And I did, really. Whatever house I found, I wanted to be able to live there for a long time. I was tired of moving around, tired of feeling like no matter where I was at it wasn’t home.

She smiled. “Antonio is so excited for you to get there.”

“I know he is, and I’m happy to be going,” I told her. “I just hope I don’t disappoint him again.”

“Stop thinking that way!” she said, reaching over to squeeze my hand. “You’re fine. You’ve been doing great.”

“Yes, I have been, in a stable city within boundaries that have been set for me,” I pointed out calmly. “I know what I’m supposed to do and when I’m supposed to do it, but I know what my first instinct will be when trouble rears its ugly head. I need to learn to curb my hero complex, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to stop myself from trying to save the world.”

“It doesn’t have to be as serious as you’re making it,” she said firmly. “You have the tools to make choices now but that doesn’t mean you should be begging for a chance to do so.”

“You misunderstand me, Brenda. I’d love nothing more than to retreat into the chantry and never come out again,” I admitted softly, “but that’s no way to live. I don’t want to walk into any dangerous situations, but shit does happen, and with Antonio keeping an eye on me, I know he’ll help me make the right choices.

“You can make your own choices,” she told me.

“Yes,” I murmured dryly, “because I’ve done such a wonderful job with that, these last few years.”

“Well then, it’s time for a new leaf.”

“Yes, I know. I’ve come a long way, reintegrating all of my memories, but I know I still have a long way to go.” I appreciated the effort she made to stay positive. I would need her encouragement in the months to come.


	16. Las Vegas Nights

_It's a fine romance but it's left me so undone_   
_It's always darkest before the dawn_   
_ Florence + The Machine – Shake It Out_

Las Vegas was bright and exhilarating, full of excitement and people and it was everything that I remembered it to be, but it still wasn’t home.

The Chantry Leader Idella seemed happy enough to have me back in her chantry, and thrilled that I had picked up many new skills in my time away from the city. She assigned me to work with Hunter Pollack to help maintain the security of the building, and the chantry’s arsenal. Given my success with Strong Security Agency, Idella also asked me to work with Patsy Douglas at the pharmaceutical firm the clan owned. Frasier even got a spiffy lab in the R&D department of the firm so he could experiment to his heart’s content.

While the members of the clan accepted me, my overall reception with them was neutral. Everyone knew that I’d left the town abruptly, but no one knew why. The few rumors I heard seemed to have been discounted, and for that I was thankful. None of them had even come close to the truth.

Hunter appreciated my newfound proficiency with weapons and security, which gave us lots to talk about. Frasier’s interest in all things arcane brought me into contact with Eleni Harold, who oversaw the chantry library. It took some time, but eventually I was able to call both of them friends.

Eventually I was able to find that center I’d been searching for, the space in my soul where I could be myself and stand on my own two feet. That didn’t mean I wanted Jason any less, of course. If anything, I was even more certain that the only way I’d be happy was if Jason and I were able to reconcile.

Weeks passed, then months. Jason and I continued to talk nearly every night, and a few months after I’d moved to Vegas, he came to visit. Given the volatile situation in LA he couldn’t visit often, but I welcomed any opportunity I could get to see him. When he did come, we spent nearly every waking moment together.

He always stayed at Estrea’s house when he came to Vegas, and though I would have preferred he stay with me, I understood the need to keep some distance. It would have been a very bad idea for us to fall back into bed together before we managed to work out the kinks in our relationship.

Though Jason’s visits usually went well, they were awkward, at least at first. He always seemed worried when he first arrived, as if he was afraid that I’d changed my mind about wanting to be with him. In many ways, being with Jason felt so familiar, in others it was very difficult. While he never shied away from my touch, he never reached out for me either. I tried to take it slow, but it was hard to be so close to him and yet still feel so far away.

I missed him horribly while he was gone and filled the long nights with clan work to keep myself occupied. Eventually I found a house in one of the larger suburbs of the city with a couple of extra bedrooms for family and friends to visit.

Jason’s changed appearance took a while for me to get used to. The vivid tattoos were a blatant reminder to me how badly I’d hurt him. In time I was able to see them as less of a reminder of how horribly I’d failed my marriage vows, and more of a reminder not to fuck things up again.

I talked to Estrea often, and she was happy to report that Jason had been spending less and less time at Michelle’s secluded beach and more time with his friends. Though he was still more sober than not, she’d seen him smile a few times, and even heard him laugh once. She said that even Talon was relieved at the changes in Jason’s behavior.

Jason’s friends weren’t the only ones relieved to see the changes in him. While he wasn’t the old Jason I’d fallen in love with, I was happy to see that he was more like the man I’d once married than the man I’d begged to forgive me on that beach in Santa Monica.

By December things had eased between us, and I was no longer afraid to reach out for him, to touch or hug him whenever I felt the need to reassure myself that he was really there. We were still taking things slow, but I was confident that it was only a matter of time before the rift I’d caused between us would heal completely.

My relationship with Jason wasn’t the only one that was healing. Lena had forgiven me enough to agree to come to Vegas for a visit, so not long after Christmas I found myself readying the house for a big family party.

Brenda, Howie and Gabe decided to stay at the house with me. Her divorce from Rafe had been final for months, and though Rafe also agreed to come for the party, he planned on staying at the Tremere Chantry.

Michael and Meg also flew in, though they chose to stay at Michael’s usual suite at one of the big casinos. Jason flew in with Michael, though he would stay at Estrea’s house, along with Lena, Mikael and Christopher.

Thankfully, Brenda flew in a few nights early to help me get the house ready. She came in on a wave of happiness, excited about how Gabe had enjoyed the holiday and raving about how smart the boy was.

I’d been concerned about how she and Michael would get along, but as it turned out most of the tension between them had dissipated over the months since I’d left Salem. Even Rafe’s dour presence wasn’t enough to dim the glow in her eyes whenever Michael was in the room.

I was nervous about seeing Lena and her family again, but after some initial awkwardness, things turned out just fine. Dinner was a huge success, with lots of food for the mortals to eat and sustenance for the rest of us as well.

It seemed like it took hours to open the gifts. I knew money didn’t fix everything, but I’d spent a small fortune on gifts for Christopher, trying to make up for the years I’d had nothing to give him. By the time Jason took Lena and her family back to Estrea’s house at nine, Christopher was nodding off, and Gabe wasn’t far behind him.

Jason returned to the house around midnight to spend more time with me before dawn. I was thankful when Michael and Meg left for a tour of the strip’s casinos and Brenda headed for the Tremere Chantry with Antonio, leaving Jason and me alone.

We settled down in front of the TV and I put on an old movie we’d both seen too many times to really need to pay attention to while we talked.

“Is Graves still pissed about me coming to see you?” I asked as I sat down beside him.

He smiled. “I think he might be. Why? Sick of my coming here?”

“Of course not, I just thought it might be nice if I could come see you once in a while,” I told him. We’d get to see each other more often. You know, if Graves didn’t call a Blood Hunt.”

His eyes searched my face, as if trying to decide if I was serious or not. After a moment, he smiled and nodded. “Okay, I’ll talk to him. See what he says.”

“Just, um, be careful, okay?” I said hesitantly. “Estrea said he was really angry when she asked, and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“He’s not going to hurt me,” he scoffed, reaching for my hand. “He’s just a little protective. Like some brunette you know?”

“Yeah, I know,” I said, trying not to worry. Brenda was just as protective of me, but she’d never almost kill someone for asking permission for one of my friends to visit.

The conversation turned to other things. We talked for hours, as we usually did when he visited, about anything and everything. He left an hour or so before dawn, and not for the first time I wished that he didn’t have to go.

Lena’s second night in Vegas was as enjoyable as the first. I’d bought tickets to a circus performance to entertain the kids, and after they retired for the evening, the rest of us headed out to try our luck at the tables.

All in all, the weekend was a success, but when everyone went their separate ways to go home, I felt as I always felt when Jason returned to LA; alone.

Jason and I continued to talk nearly every night, but it wasn’t until nearly a month into the New Year that he brought up the topic of me visiting LA. I was shocked to learn that Graves had agreed to let me visit.

“Really? He said—” I could hardly believe it, but I wasn’t about to question Graves’ decision. “Just tell me when you want me to be there, and I’ll come.”

“Whenever you want to come,” he said, a smile in his voice.

I thought quickly, working out my schedule in my head. “This weekend? I think I could come this weekend, if you want.”

“That works,” he laughed.

A quick call to Estrea made sure I had somewhere to stay in LA, and of course Antonio gave me leave to go. He was happy that Jason and I were working things out, and seemed pleased that I was going to visit LA.

The only downside to my trip to LA was the requisite visit with the prince. Jason tried to reassure me when he picked me up at the airport at midnight on Friday night.

“I’ve already talked to him and told him to behave,” he told me. “Don’t worry.”

“Yeah, okay,” I said dryly, smoothing the hem of my linen skirt. “It’s not like he threatened to kill me the last time I saw him, or anything.”

As if he knew how nervous I felt, Jason reached over to take my hand, holding it as he drove toward Talon’s mansion.

I tried very hard not to remember the last time we’d been in a car with Jason driving. That last night I’d seen in him Flint, telling him I was dating Scott, watching him drive away, those memories still haunted me.

Thinking about going to Graves’ house wasn’t much better. Estrea had told me that Luke lived there, just as Jason did, and I certainly didn’t want to see yet another man whose heart I’d broken. Add to that the very real possibility that Graves would be nasty, and my nerves were shot.

To take my mind from things I asked Jason about the city itself. The last time I’d left LA, Graves had just taken over as prince and I knew he’d had a difficult rule. Jason confirmed that the Sabbat was still trying to move into the city from the south, and that many of the clans still didn’t work well together.

Despite not being my biggest fan, Graves was at least polite when I made the required visit. He wasn’t exactly welcoming, but he didn’t make any derogatory comments either. I could understand his lack of warmth. I’d hurt Jason badly, and if I did it again, I knew it wouldn’t be a faceless Assamite come to tear my heart out, Graves would do it personally.

It was wonderful, being in LA. I stayed with Estrea at her house just north of the city and while it was nice to hang out with her again, I spent most of my time with Jason. I could almost believe that things would work out between us, that somehow things would work out for us in the end.

Yet at the end of the weekend I found myself on the plane that would take me to Las Vegas, every second taking me further and further from the man that I loved. I told myself I was being foolish, that we still needed time to work things out between us, but that didn’t make leaving him hurt any less.

It didn’t help when Jason had to cancel his next visit to Vegas. A new faction had moved into LA and Graves need him to stay and patrol. Trying not to let myself believe that Graves was once again trying to get between us, I bit my tongue and told Jason I understood. We arranged for him to come the following weekend, but I couldn’t stop the doubts that plagued me.

It was the next phone call Jason that nearly drove me insane.

“Things have gotten a little sticky here,” he told me. “I just wanted to let you know what happened last night.”

“What happened? Is Michael okay?”

“Everyone is fine.” He hesitated a moment, then added, “I was shot last night.”

The strength ran out of my legs and I sat town in the nearest chair. Taking a deep breath, I said slowly, “But you’re okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine now,” he assured me. “They weren’t regular rounds, but with enough blood I’ve healed.” His voice sounded tired, as if the injury had taken a lot out of him.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“Japanese mafia is making a play,” he explained. “They’ve got supernaturals on their payroll and things got a little crazy last night. We were on our way back to Talon’s and they did a drive by. I got hit.”

I gritted my teeth and told myself that if Jason was talking to me, he was fine, and I didn’t really need to fly to LA. “How crazy?”

“Mage out of control crazy,” he told me. “Elias was shot a few nights ago and it took days for him to come out of it. I’m not gonna lie... things are going to be hard around here.”

Elias was the new Gangrel Primogen Graves had brought in after the last one had been killed. Apparently, they’d known each other a long time.

“Look, I don’t want you to worry, but since we’re... you know, starting over and all. I wanted to make sure I... you know, told you what happened, what’s going on here.”

“Well, I do worry, Jason, but I’m glad you told me.” I took another deep breath to try and keep the fear I felt out of my voice. “While we’re being honest, I should tell you that I’m having a very hard time not jumping on a plane right now.”

“I figured as much.” There was something of a smile in his voice. “But I’m fine. Besides, I’m not sure LA is the safest place right now.”

“I know, and I know you don’t need me to run in and save you,” I said softly. “I just, I really don’t want to lose you, Jason, not again.”

“I know. We’re going to get through this,” he said hoarsely. “I can’t lose you again.” He paused to clear his throat. “I... I wish that you were here, but I don’t want you in any danger. You’ve been through enough.”

“We’ve been through enough,” I told him. I really wanted to beg him to leave LA, but I knew he wouldn’t leave Graves, not with the city in danger. “You will still come this weekend, though, right?”

“As long as nothing really bad happens here,” he promised. “I’ve already talked to Talon.” He hesitated, then added, “H-he basically told me not to bail on you.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I’d been burying fears of Graves trying to come between me and Jason. “That was... nice of him,” I said at last, surprised it hadn’t killed me to say it.

“I’m looking forward to it,” he added.

Something in my heart relaxed a bit to hear him say that. “Me too,” I admitted softly.

It was hard for me to pick up the pieces of my night, to gather my thoughts and go back to work, but somehow, I managed. I wanted nothing more than to fly to LA, but I knew that jumping in to save him was the last thing I should do. He was safe and whole, for now, and I could trust Graves to watch his back.

**Author's Note:**

> My gaming group has always played fast and loose with the White Wolf rules, including lots of things we see in various TV shows, movies and books. We were playing mostly in the late 1990s and early 2000s so we use/used the editions available at that time. 
> 
> We also threw all the 'By Night' rules out of the window and created our own rulers in our cities. Some of the cannon White Wolf characters may show up from time to time, but don't expect them to be like the books. 
> 
> I'll be separating these stories both by character and by city, so some stories may be listed under multiple Series under my profile here on AO3. 
> 
> If you're interested in learning more about our world 'After Dark' please visit my website at www.whendarknessfalls.net.


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